The Girl Crush
by DKLC
Summary: Miranda Lawson is perfect: smart, attractive, strong and driven. But what happens when she finds a person that is her equal in every way - and it's a woman? Rated M due to adult themes, language, sexual content and some implied violence.
1. Dream Girl

_A/N: This story is entirely wish fulfillment. I think that Miranda Lawson is one of the most beautiful Bioware girls ever, and I was annoyed at having to sit through Mark Meer's voice acting to romance her with a ManShep._

_Given a mixture of mutual respect, a looming suicide mission, and being in the company of an equally strong, gorgeous woman; Miranda finds herself developing a crush on Commander Shepard._

******* Mass Effect and all its characters or owned by Bioware and EA Games *******

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**1**

**DREAM GIRL**

Miranda Lawson runs the figures for the fourth time, reading every number and decimal point. She needs to be sure.

"Wilson" she calls out in her crisp Australian accent, "I need you to double check these charts for me. If we're going to do this today, we need it to be perfect."

Wilson scurries over and removes the datapad from her perfectly manicured hands. His eyes wash over the information, taking in every detail. _He has a piss-poor attitude_, Miranda reflects, _but his work is solid_.

He looks at her with a gleam in his grey eyes. "Operative Lawson, today is the day. We're not going to get numbers better than this."

She looks at him with a moment of hesitation. "We haven't dedicated two years and five billion credits into bringing Commander Shepard back, just to rush in and fall at the final hurdle. Run the numbers again. I'll do the physical inspection."

She walks towards the bed. Miranda removes the sheet to perform the final physical exam.

"VI, I need full body X-rays and ultrasounds" she commands to the base's computer, and two separate probes are sent out to begin the scans.

She places a hand lovingly on the commander's taut, flat stomach. This body, while not her own, may as well be. She's spent two years putting it back together from the badly charred, stiff remains that were delivered to them. She knows every inch of it, having painstakingly reconstructed it from a mixture of DNA material and cybernetics. She has watched every cell of this body multiply and grow, while simultaneously learning everything there is to know about the woman who is Commander Shepard.

Her eyes are drawn to the breasts, almost as large and as perfect as her own. It was impossible to tell how big they had originally been, as Shepard was always heavily armoured in the available vid footage. Miranda has settled on a small D, fighting all the men on the project who wanted to make them a large DD. Part of the Commander's charm and presence is her sex appeal, but she still needs a well-balanced, functional body. Miranda, of all people, understands that.

Shepard's limbs are long and lean, and the two year old skin is soft and smooth. Her hair has grown to just above her shoulders in its natural brunette tones. Miranda hasn't seen the commander's eyes since the facial reconstruction was completed, but she knows that they are a dark shade of green. Shepard had been a pretty woman originally, blessed with the hereditary good looks of her mother, Admiral Hannah Shepard, and The Lazarus Project has done well to successfully restore that natural beauty.

Shepard is going to make a remarkable asset for Cerberus, as long as they get the go ahead to wake her up.

Wilson's voice interrupts her thoughts. "Numbers are perfect, Lawson, the physical exam came back clear, and the Illusive Man has given us the green light. Let's do this."

He stands up from his seat and grins. It's an eerie sight that makes the hairs on the back of Miranda's neck stand up. _There's something about Wilson that is just… off, _she thinks to herself, unable to place the discomfort he is causing her. Her instincts have never led her wrong, but he is too brilliant to dismiss from the project.

She retracts her hand from Shepard's body, aware of what the intimate contact looks like. Wilson would never understand Miranda's affection for the woman she's dedicated two years to. Miranda pulls the sheet back up, covering the commander's nakedness, and reaches her hand over to Shepard's right forearm, where the small stasis chip is embedded. She gently removes it, trying to cause as little physical damage as possible. There is a small red drop of blood forming on the commander's otherwise flawless skin, and Miranda resists the urge to kiss it better.

Shepard's breathing starts to change immediately, becoming shallow and erratic. Her heavily lashed eyelids begin to flutter, and her hands start to twitch. Miranda instinctively takes Shepard's hand in her own and strokes it. Wilson gives her a sideways glance, but she ignores him. This project is her baby, and she has every right to comfort the patient however she wishes to. Shepard's heart rate is heading off the charts, and her breathing is becoming laboured. Wilson starts to run the numbers on his datapad again, a look of panic crossing his face. Miranda squeezes Shepard's hand tightly, and raises the spare hand to stroke her cheek.

Shepard's eyes finally snap open and she sits bolt upright in the bed. Wilson draws his weapon and Miranda gives him a stern look. Shepard stares at the wall for a long moment, before Miranda finally speaks.

"Do you know who you are?" she asks as gently as she can, well aware that her voice often comes across as cold and callous.

Shepard turns her eyes to Miranda, and the Cerberus operative feels the green gaze bore into her. "My name is Commander Jane Shepard, Council Spectre and Systems Alliance Marine. Am I in hospital, ma'am?"

Miranda listens to the voice carefully. She's studied hundreds of hours of vid footage of the commander. The voice sounds good, the pitch, tone and inflections are perfect. More importantly, it's completely sexy, and Miranda immediately wants to hear more.

"You're in a medical facility, Commander. Do you remember what happened?"

The commander closes her eyes and draws her eyebrows together into a frown. She's searching for the memory, but probing her brain seems to be painful.

"My ship was attacked. My pilot wouldn't evacuate, so I had to drag him out of the cockpit. I got to the escape shuttle, but then I…" she trails off, her eyes open and a look of confusion crosses her pretty features, "What happened to me?"

Miranda feels a twinge of guilt, but she's under strict orders not to overload the commander with information. "You were in an accident. You were very badly hurt. You've been in a coma."

Shepard nods slowly, and for the first time, she glances at Wilson, who is still aiming his pistol at her. She returns her eyes to Miranda. "Do your medical staff always hold your patients at gunpoint, Doctor?"

Miranda puts her hand over Wilson's gun and lowers it. He gives her a cautious glance, and she shakes her head. He frowns as he holsters it.

Shepard rolls her shoulders and looks down, scrambling to pull the sheet up over her exposed chest. She pulls the sheet out again and looks down at her breasts. Miranda feels her breath catch in her throat. _I made them too big_, she thinks in a panic, _I should've gone with a medium C_!

"Okay Doctor, what the hell is going on here? I want that pistol packing midget out of my face right now, and I want some answers, because I sure as shit didn't sanction a breast augmentation!"

Miranda becomes aware of the pistol that's holstered on her hip, reassured by its weight and her ability to use it. "Step outside, Wilson, you're making the Commander uncomfortable. We need some girl-time."

His face goes red with anger. "You can't be serious, Lawson? This is my project as much as it is yours."

Shepard's eyes narrow as she locks them on Wilson. "You heard the lady. She wants you out, and so do I. I may not be packing heat like the two of you, but rest assured, there are a dozen different ways that I can kill a man with my bare hands. Don't test me, asshole."

Miranda smothers her smirk as Wilson's face flushes an even darker red. "Is this an order, Lawson?" he asks through gritted teeth.

"It is" she responds coolly, her eyes taking in the sight of a woman who can intimidate an armed man out of a room while fully naked.

He brushes past Miranda, deliberately bumping her shoulder on his way out. Shepard's body language relaxes somewhat with him out of the room. She looks back towards Miranda. "So, Dr Lawson, is it? Care to tell me what's going on? I… have the strangest feeling…" She trails off slowly before the look of realisation hits her. "I didn't survive the accident, did I?"

Miranda locks her dark blue eyes with the commander's dark green pair. _She's clever_, she thinks to herself, _a lie will gain me nothing but her distrust_.

"No, you didn't survive the crash of the Normandy, Commander. There was a pinprick tear in your suit. It's hard to say whether you suffocated or froze, but yes, you did die."

Shepard nods slowly, her mind ticking over visibly. _She's taking this remarkably wel__l_, Miranda notes.

After a long moment, Shepard speaks again. "I don't even know how any of this is possible. Was it was you, Dr Lawson, who fixed me? Brought me back to life, whatever you want to call it?"

Miranda puts a comforting hand on Shepard's knee. Shepard flinches at the contact, but takes no action to remove Miranda's hand. "I headed the team that fixed you up, yes, but I'm not a doctor, I'm just a scientist. And… you can call me Miranda."

Shepard's eyes transfix on Miranda's face, and she swallows hard. "Very well, Miranda. I suppose I should think of a way to thank you."

"Oh? And how would you do that?" Miranda asks, letting her fingers walk up Shepard's thigh.

Shepard is lightning fast, and snatches Miranda's explorative hand into her own, pulling the Cerberus operative closer. She puts a hand on the back of Miranda's head and closes the distance between them. Miranda has never kissed a woman before, and as Shepard's lips touch hers, she's amazed by the softness of the kiss. Shepard's lips are lush and supple as they expertly suck and caress Miranda's mouth. Miranda has a moment of doubt, _this is so unprofessional_, but the thoughts are silenced as she feels Shepard's warm, wet tongue against her bottom lip. She parts her lips and let's the tongue enter her mouth, meeting her own. Normally, she treats her first kiss with someone as a battle for dominance, always making sure her partner knows that she's the boss. But this is different. Their tongues touch and tickle each other, neither of them fighting, but neither submitting. It's the kiss of equals. Shepard's mouth tastes like something sweet. _Strange, considering she hasn't had anything to eat for two years…_ Miranda thinks to herself.

Shepard's hand lets go of Miranda's hand and travels to her lower back, bringing her body in closer. Her other hand travels from the back of Miranda's head, to the nape of her neck, gently stroking the sensitive skin. Miranda lets her hands explore. Shepard has dropped the sheet, and Miranda instinctively knows what part of the woman's body to touch. She pulls the sheet away from around Shepard's waist and throws it to the ground. Shepard shivers lightly as the clinic's cool air hits her skin. Miranda puts a hand on Shepard's thigh, feeling the smoothness of the flesh, while the other hand moves up to the side of her neck. She uses light finger strokes as she makes her way down Shepard's neck and shoulder. Shepard encourages her with heavier breathing, and Miranda decides to abandon her hand's coy descent, and she forwardly cups both of Shepard's breasts in her hands. They're a little bit more than a handful, and the skin is soft, but the breasts themselves are firm and gravity defying. Shepard moans into Miranda's mouth as Miranda strokes the commander's nipples with the pads of her thumbs, before trapping the hardened buds between her thumbs and index fingers, pinching them lightly.

Miranda hasn't been intimate with anyone since her and Jacob called it off six months prior, and she is feeling the burn of her pent up frustration, her arousal becoming evident after only a few minutes of kissing and light touching. It's been even longer for Shepard, whose entire body is heating up under Miranda's touch. In one fluid motion, Shepard uses her superior strength to pull Miranda onto the bed with her, laying down on her back with Miranda on top, never once breaking their lip lock. Miranda takes her cue and opens her legs, straddling Shepard on the bed.

She breaks the contact between their mouths and sits up. The commander looks up at her with those deeply green eyes, full of lust and desire. Miranda gives the commander a small smirk, before reaching for the zip of her catsuit. She unzips it slowly, reveling in the look on Shepard's face. Shepard's pupils dilate and she unconsciously licks her lower lip as she watches the Cerberus operative undress herself, undoing her clothing at an excruciatingly slow pace. She pulls the zipper down to her waist, exposing her black push up bra.

Shepard props herself up and takes both breasts in her hands, kissing the exposed flesh of Miranda's neckline. Miranda feels Shepard's tongue run its way along her collarbone, and lets out a throaty moan as Shepard's soft lips work their magic on the sensitive flesh of her breasts. She feels Shepard's hands move positions, as the commander slips them around Miranda's back and undoes her bra with a small, nimble movement of her fingers.

"Mmm you're good with your hands" Miranda whispers in Shepard's ear.

Shepard gives her a small, sly smile. "You haven't see what I can do with my mouth yet."

Miranda arches her back as Shepard draws one of her nipples into her warm mouth and massages it with her tongue. She uses her hands to pull the sleeves of Miranda's body suit down, exposing more clear, white skin. Her light touches on the newly uncovered skin cause goosebumps to form on the flesh. She runs her hands up and down Miranda's arms, and then down her back, cupping her ample backside in each hand. Again, she uses her superior strength to lift Miranda up to reposition her, this time with Miranda lying on her back, with Shepard between her legs.

Shepard kisses and nibbles her way down Miranda's incredible body as her hands slowly pull the rest of the catsuit down. She slips it over the top of Miranda's calf-high black boots, leaving the Cerberus operative lying on her back in nothing but a pair of boots and a black thong. _Why am I doing this?_ Miranda asks herself as Shepard licks her way up Miranda's smooth, shapely legs. _The boys in security will be having a field day with this footage. Not to mention what the Illusive Man is going to say when he finds out. Why don't I care about these things? _Shepard hooks her index and middle finger into Miranda's pantyline and impatiently rips the fabric, pulling the black thong off and dumping it on the ground to join the white and black Cerberus uniform.

Shepard hovers above her, and Miranda can feel Shepard's warm breath moving between her legs. Miranda is trembling with excitement as Shepard's lips touch against her throbbing womanhood. Her mouth is soft and warm as it slowly parts the veil, making Miranda's legs shudder with the sensation. She strokes and licks the fleshy edges with her talented tongue, and Miranda can do nothing else but grip the sides of the bed and try not to moan too loudly. With one last sultry glance at Miranda's face, Shepard plunges her tongue in and instantly finds Miranda's pleasure point.

Miranda cries out uncontrollably as Shepard works her tongue in circular motions, drawing out the sensations at a torturously slow pace, as Miranda arches her back and grinds her hips against the bed. Shepard uses one of her hands and tickles the inside of Miranda's thigh, slowly making its way up to meet with her mouth. She slips one finger inside Miranda and instantly hits that blessed spot that so many men before her had failed to find. Miranda is not even bothering with stifling her moans and cries as Shepard's mouth and index finger work in perfect harmony. She picks up the pace, using her tongue and lips in a mixture of licking and gentle sucking motions.

Miranda grabs the back of Shepard's head and pulls her in even closer, maximising the amount of contact and pressure between Shepard's mouth and Miranda's radiating core. She rocks her hips back and forth against Shepard's face, as Shepard slips a second finger into Miranda's hungering wetness. Shepard is the best lover she's ever experienced. Nobody has managed to pleasure her quite like this before. _How does she know?_ Miranda thinks frantically, _How does she know exactly what to do? It's like she's inside my brain._ Shepard slips a third nimble finger inside, and uses her free hand to caress and massage Miranda's right breast. Shepard pumps the fingers vigorously against Miranda's inner sanctum, while her warm, wet tongue brings untold pleasure to the bundle of nerves between Miranda's thighs.

The pressure between Miranda's hips is building up to the point where she can no longer control her body. Her legs are clenched, her toes are curled and her knuckles are white from their grip on the bed. Miranda is quivering and shaking from the inside out, the climax looming upon her, so close…

"Oh God Shepard, yes, yes, YES!" she screams breathlessly as the most intense orgasm of her life is about to explode.

Suddenly, Shepard removes her mouth. "Mmm… Operative Lawson…" she murmurs.

"Call me Miranda, just keep going!" Miranda cries out, as the loss of sensation is almost painful.

"Operative Lawson," Shepard says again, her voice louder this time.

Miranda moves her hips upwards and tries to push Shepard's face back down, to no avail. "Oh God Shepard, please don't stop!"

Shepard removes her fingers and props herself up on her elbows. "Operative Lawson."

Miranda sits up angrily. The orgasm begins to recede like lava in her loins, her blood pumps furiously around her body and her breath drags raggedly in and out of her chest. "Bloody hell, Shepard! What is so important that it couldn't wait another 30 seconds?"

"Operative Lawson."

She jumps off the bed and stands up naked, her knees feeling weak. "Stop saying that damn it!"

"Operative Lawson, Operative Lawson, Operative Lawson…"

"OPERATIVE LAWSON!"

Miranda opens her eyes and sits up with a start. Her blankets are wrapped around her, and she's covered in a fine layer of sweat. She can feel the throbbing between her legs, and when she puts her finger between the crevice she finds it slippery and wet. Her heart is still thumping in her chest as she looks at the time on the display. 7:34am. She's slept in.

"Sorry EDI, I must have been having a bad dream" she answers, her voice thick from sleep.

"Negative. The pitch of your moans was not in line with a human being's fear response. Furthermore, body scans indicated that four out of five of your erogenous zones were putting out extra heat. It is 99.6% probable that your dream was of a sexually arousing nature."

"Must you be so bloody nosy all the time EDI?" Miranda asks in irritation, as she runs a hand through her shoulder length, raven hair.

"Apologies if I have caused offense, Operative Lawson, I was simply correcting the error in your statement."

"Well… just don't do any body scans while I'm sleeping. Are we clear?"

"Understood. Should I also delete the voice recordings of you repeating Commander Shepard's name?"

Miranda's eyes bulge. _Bloody AIs_… "Yes, delete everything! Immediately! No recordings of any type in my room!"

"Affirmative. I will rewrite my programming to reflect your request."

Miranda swings her legs over the side of her bed and feels the cool tiles under her bare feet. She needs a shower. _A cold one._ She crosses her room in her underwear and tank top. "Was there a reason you woke me, EDI? The commander doesn't hold the debriefs until 9am."

"Yes. Commander Shepard instructed me to alert you that our ETA for Omega is in 45 minutes."

Miranda nods her head as that sobering thought helps to quench the fire between her legs. "Okay, thank you EDI. Let her know that I'll meet her on the bridge in half an hour."

"Yes, Operative Lawson."

The flowing water of her shower helps to clear her head and rinse the remnants of that dream out of her mind, and she dresses hurriedly. She leaves her cabin quickly, hearing the satisfying click of her high heels along the tiled flooring.

There are crew members eating their breakfasts in the mess hall, and they do little to hide the way they stare at her. By 34 years old, Miranda is used to the stares of men. That is why her father had her created to look such a way, after all. She ignores the eyes upon her as she heads to the elevator.

The mechanical ring resonates in her ears as she presses the button. It doesn't open immediately, which means that it's on another floor. She taps her foot impatiently. They are less than twenty minutes from Omega now, and she needs to make sure that everything is set for their arrival. There can be no mistakes on a mission this big, and the salarian doctor is their best chance at getting some answers.

The elevator door hisses open, and Miranda is frozen in place as her eyes fall upon its inhabitant.

"Good morning, Miss Lawson," Commander Shepard says with a welcoming smile.

Miranda feels a pang of arousal hit her between the legs as the sensory memory of her dream comes flooding back into her mind. She feels herself blush lightly as she makes eye contact with the commander. _I really did do a great job on her smile_, the unwelcome thought pops into her head.

"Good morning, Commander. And please, call me Miranda…"


	2. Scars

_A/N: Thank you to all the fine individuals who took the time to favourite/follow, review and private message me regarding the continuation of the Jane Shepard/Miranda Lawson adventures. I'm actually surprised at how much love there is for this couple seeing as it's not an in-game option. You all have wonderful taste, bless your cotton socks._

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**2**

**SCARS**

**Thump, thump, thump**.

*"Shit!"*

**Thump, thump, thump, bang**.

**CRASH**.

*"Oww!"*

Miranda rolls her eyes and sits back from her terminal. 2:21am and someone is messing around in the galley. Good thing she is elbow deep in reports and not sleeping like a normal person would be.

She reaches her arms upwards and stretches out her back. It suddenly strikes her how tired she is. She switches the terminal off and rubs her eyes. The Illusive Man has asked that these reports be finished quickly, but he will have to wait until the morning. After all, he's not the one who spent the best part of the day getting shot at alongside Commander Shepard.

_That woman is a bloody bullet magnet_, Miranda thinks to herself.

She shuffles over to her bed, stripping out of her uniform as she goes. She retrieves a black singlet from her open drawer, and pulls it over her head. She falls onto her comfortable mattress, her eyes closing instantly the moment her head hits the pillow.

**Clomp, clomp clomp.**

*"Ah! You fucking bastard of a thing!"*

**Thud. CRASH.**

Miranda's eyes fly open and she sits herself up in one fluid, agitated motion. _Alright, I'm awake! Some bastard is going to have a lot of explaining to do!_

She stalks across her quarters in six long strides and punches the button to open her door. She barrels her way into the galley, where there is a figure lying on the floor beside the bench.

"Give me your name and rank! You're off this ship as soon as we dock tomorrow!" she yells at the darkened figure.

There's an awkward silence, and then somebody clears their throat. "My name is Shepard, and my rank is Commander of this vessel."

Miranda's eyes widen in surprise and she fumbles for the light switch. The fluorescent lights hum for a moment before springing into life, blinding both women with their brightness. Miranda is more prepared for the blast of light than Shepard, and she recovers first, while Shepard lies sightless on the ground. Shepard is dressed similarly to Miranda, in black underwear and a Cerberus tank top. Miranda's eyes do a brief scan of the commander's bare, athletic legs, and she swallows hard.

"I'm sorry Commander, I didn't realize it was you," she says in a significantly softer tone, extending her hand to help up the dazed soldier.

She has made sure to control her voice around the commander ever since they boarded the Normandy. She had been quite abrasive at the Cerberus base, or "a bitch", as Shepard had called her. It's best for them to be on good terms - for the sake of the mission, of course. Shepard knows how to command loyalty through strength and example, but still has the ability to be charming. Miranda recognizes a resource when she sees it, and knows that she can learn a lot from the woman soldier.

Shepard accepts the hand and Miranda feels her belly do a flip flop at the contact, before she helps the other woman to her feet.

Shepard blinks her green eyes in dazzlement. "No, I'm the one that should be sorry. I'm still not used to the layout of this ship. I totally forgot your office was there."

Miranda eyes Shepard off. She has a contusion the size of an egg coming up on her forehead. Miranda reflexively reaches up a hand to touch it, slipping back into the old mind-frame of when all of Shepard's injuries were hers to deal with. "You're hurt."

Shepard stiffens slightly as Miranda's fingertips brush over the developing lump. "We spend an entire day getting shot at by prison guards on an exploding ship, and you're worried about a bump? You need to prioritize, Lawson."

"You're probably right," Miranda says as she removes her hand, bringing it back down to her side. "And my name is Miranda. What are you doing in here anyway? I heard banging and swearing."

Shepard blushes lightly and scratches her head. "Oh, you heard that? Sorry again. I've spent too much time on military ships, I have a mouth like a marine. I'll try and reign it in when I'm in your presence, Miss Lawson."

Miranda shakes her head and gives a dismissive hand gesture. "I'm a big girl, Shepard, swearing doesn't offend me. What _does_ offend me is two years of my life being wasted by you killing yourself in an attempt to get a midnight snack."

"Fucking pan's too high up…" Shepard mumbles.

Miranda sighs and flares the biotics in her right hand. "This pan?" she asks, lifting the stainless steel contraption from the highest shelf.

Shepard looks up at the floating cooking utensil and smiles. "God that must be cool."

"It has its uses," Miranda says, trying not to sound too cocky.

Shepard snatches the pan from a foot above her head, and puts it down on the stove. She turns towards the refrigerator and dives her head into it, giving Miranda a distractingly good view of her entire hindquarters.

Miranda forces herself to look at the floor. "Uh… what are you cooking, Commander?" she asks as she keeps her eyes trained on a damaged tile on the floor.

"An omelette. Can I make you some? A peace offering for waking you up?" the disembodied voice calls out from behind the refrigerator door.

"It's okay, Shepard, I was awake anyway. I suppose women with missions like ours don't have much time for luxuries such as sleep."

She hears Shepard's husky laugh ring out from behind the door while the shapely legs take turns tensing and untensing, Shepard shifting her weight from foot to foot. _Stop looking at her ass_! Miranda scolds herself, turning her attention back to that fascinating chipped tile.

"What, you mean the fate of humanity resting on our shoulders, taking on an impossible enemy and very likely facing death? Missions like that?"

Miranda smirks to herself. "Well, when you put it like that I suppose you're right. There's no pressure on us at all."

Shepard barks out a short laugh as she reappears from her voyage to the refrigerator, pulling out an armful of ingredients with her.

"Do you always eat this much?" Miranda asks, keeping the shock out of her voice.

Shepard appraises the collection as she starts cracking eggs into a large silver bowl. "Well, some of it is for you, but yes, on the whole, I eat the equivalent of a large male krogan."

Miranda gives Shepard's body a brief scan. She hasn't gained any weight since they left the Lazarus base. In fact, she looks like she's in better shape than ever.

"Have you spoken to Dr Chakwas about this?"

Shepard's eyes crinkle into a smile as she focuses on her egg whisking. "You don't work out, do you Miss Lawson? You just get to wake up in the morning with a body like that?"

Miranda flushes slightly as she considers her best response. She's already touched on this subject with Shepard, but, she supposes, it does bare repeating. "Well, yes, but it's mainly due to my genetic modification."

Shepard fills the pan with her creation and turns on the stove, while she looks Miranda up and down. "Nah, that's not it. I've known people who've been genetically modified and still turn out the size of a moon in orbit. Don't sell yourself short. You watch what you eat, and your biotics burn up the excess calories. I, on the other hand, get shot at all day, and I hold a very, very big gun. I don't have time for maintaining sleek lines and soft curves. I need to be strong. So I eat and work out a lot."

"Your lines seem sleek enough to me…" Miranda mutters quietly. She meant it to come out as a scientific observation, from a strict biology standpoint, but her reddening cheeks betray her. _Good Lord, Lawson, are you deliberately trying to make this awkward?_

A brief look of confusion passes over Shepard's face. "That's nice of you to say. I'm still not used to balancing these enormous tits you've given me, but I'm getting there."

_Don't look, don't look, don't look, don't look, oh bloody hell, you're looking. Okay, you're committed. That's okay. You're a scientist, you built them, keep it clinical. Say something, quickly_!

"Believe it or not, Shepard, those were a compromise. The rest of the team wanted to give you breasts that would better suit one of those asari porn stars."

Shepard rolls her eyes as she serves up the omelette onto two separate plates. "Oh, I believe it. Fucking men… Okay, food's up, I hope you're hungry, Miss Lawson."

"Shepard, for the last time, will you please call me Miranda?"

Shepard pulls out a seat at the nearest table for Miranda, and sits across from her. Miranda sits down and eyes off the food. It looks and smells delicious. She suddenly realizes that she's worked all night, and forgotten to eat dinner. Her stomach growls impatiently.

"Okay, _Miranda_. You may call me Shepard."

Miranda sticks her fork in her food but pauses before bringing it to her lips. "I already do call you Shepard."

Shepard laughs through her mouthful of food, and swallows quickly. "You do too. Why, how very forward of you!"

Miranda eyes the commander off. "I do know your other name, though."

Shepard's eyes lock on hers and she smirks. "I have no other name. Let us never speak about this again."

Miranda sits forward, watching the soldier squirm. "Oh, okay. My mistake then… _Jane_."

"You are such a cheat!" Shepard squawks as her eyes widen in mock horror. "I hate the fact that you know everything about me. That is so unfair. I think I deserve at least a little something in return."

Miranda's nervous system jolts slightly in response to what could be a very, very forward overture. "It depends what you had in mind," she says, avoiding Shepard's gaze.

"Thats an accent I'm detecting," Shepard replies, pushing her food around on her plate, "Definitely too strong to be anything other than Earth-born. I think I served with a few guys that sounded like that, but theirs were rougher. It's... Australian?

"That's right," Miranda says, popping a forkful of omelette into her mouth. "Good ear." She chews quickly and swallows, licking the rest of the flavor off her lower lip. _The youngest Commander in Alliance history, the first human Spectre, Saviour of the Citadel and omelette extraordinaire. Commander Shepard is an interesting woman._

"This is quite good, Shepard. Where did you learn to cook?"

Shepard chuckles and gestures with her cutlery. "We all have our hidden talents, Lawson. Some of us can do boring things, like move objects with our minds, while others can do truly amazing things, like cook eggs and cheese. Try not to be too jealous."

Miranda takes another bite. "I'm just having a hard time picturing you taking time off from utter destruction to take a cooking class."

Shepard finishes the last forkful of her food, having eaten it as quickly as she'd cooked it. "I like to mix business with pleasure. My ex-fiancé was an accomplished chef. I learned quite a lot in our time together."

"You were engaged?" Miranda asks with a cocked head, wondering which information broker she should be strangling for missing that major piece of information. "Do you know where he is now?"

Shepard inclines her head awkwardly and a private little smile curls her lips. "No, we haven't been in contact for years. She broke my heart and kept my ring, but she left me with some of her best recipes. I feel like I ended up on the winning end of that particular break up."

"You were engaged to a woman? You're a… _oh." _Miranda chides herself internally for the swell of happiness the revelation brings her.

_Lawson! You have one disarming dream about someone and you're rendered permanently incapable of carrying on a normal conversation with them without blushing every 45 seconds? You're better than this!_

Shepard leans back in her seat and smiles broadly."Ha ha! Something slipped your information net, I see! How is it possible that you spent two years researching me, and you failed to discover my sexual preference? I haven't been closeted since I was 14 years old."

Miranda tucks a strand of loose hair behind her ear as she momentarily avoids Shepard's eyes. "I wasn't exactly in the position to interview anybody about your personal life. Nobody even knew Cerberus had your body. And you have nothing on public record to indicate it. The only way I could've known was if you'd had a fraternization charge, or a registered spouse or defacto."

Shepard shakes her head in mock disappointment. "I expected better of you Laws - Miranda."

Miranda rolls her eyes. "Well, nobody's perfect."

"I suppose not," Shepard concedes as she collects their empty dishes and crosses the mess hall with them. She rinses them quickly in the sink and then loads up the dishwasher, wiping her wet hands on her bare legs afterwards. "Well, thank you for sharing my snack with me, but I should get down to the shuttle bay to work out, lest I ruin these toned abs you've given me."

Miranda takes a sideways gaze at the commander from the corner of her eye. Slim, toned and long limbed, just the way Miranda created her. _I do damn good work._

"You're going for a work out? It's three o'clock in the morning."

"Yeah, I know," Shepard says with a nod, "I've already had three hours of sleep tonight. I don't seem to be able to go for much longer than that these days."

Miranda frowns as she crosses the room to join Shepard in the galley. "That doesn't sound normal. Are you having any other ill effects?"

Shepard runs her hand along the scar on her jawline. "My implants were hurting a lot today. I think these scars are actually getting worse."

Miranda moves in closer to inspect them, aware of Shepard's breath on her ear. "They do seem to be a bit deeper than they were. They might have overheated while we were in battle. I'll have to run tests on them."

Shepard sighs. "More medical stuff?"

Miranda nods and takes a step back. "More medical stuff. Come into my office after your workout. If physical exertion is what's causing it, then they should still be hot after some aerobic exercise."

Shepard pushes off from the bench, and mumbles something incomprehensible involving the words "science" and "bullshit".

"Shepard?" Miranda calls out to the departing woman's back. Shepard pauses and turns in Miranda's direction. "Thank you for breakfast."

Shepard gives a low, theatrical bow. "Any time, Miss La - Miranda, any time."

* * *

**Tap, tap, tap.**

_Shh, Shepard's about to take my bra off. Don't disturb her._

**Knock, knock, knock.**

_Ugh, what's the time? 7:11am. A whole four hours of sleep._

"Just a second!" Miranda scrambles to get something resembling clothes on. A pair of cargos and a Cerberus tee will have to cut it. Hopefully it's only Shepard. _Shepard, Shepard, Shepard._ Miranda blinks rapidly to clear the dream out of her head. Hopefully she wasn't talking in her sleep again.

Miranda takes a seat at her desk and clears her throat. "Come in!"

Shepard steps into her office. She's wearing tight short-shorts and a sports bra. She's slightly red in the face, and glistening with a fine layer of sweat. Miranda commands her eyes to stay on Shepard's face.

"Hot enough for you?" Shepard asks, doing a twirl.

_She knows! She's seen you looking at her! Alright, time for damage control. These are natural feelings. You saw her naked every day for over two years. And now that you've actually met her, she's capable, and smart, and she has a pretty smile. She's practically a perfect bloody human specimen. You're just a bit star-struck, that's all. You've been educated in diplomacy. If anybody can smooth this over, it's you. Shepard must get this all the time. You'll both laugh about this one day. Just say something clever._

"I… umm… What?"

Shepard's brow furrows in confusion. "What you said this morning. You told me to do an aerobic workout to try to heat up my implants. I've been running and boxing for four hours."

"Oh, yes! Your implants. Okay, take a seat." Miranda gestures to the desk chair across from her own, and breathes a small sigh of relief. "EDI, can you please do some bio-thermal readings of Commander Shepard's cybernetic implants?"

"Operative Lawson, for clarification purposes, am I to take these readings inside your office, disregarding your order from 7:36am last Thursday morning?"

Miranda grits her teeth. It was her idea to integrate the AI into the Normandy's systems, a fact which she is regretting very much at this particular moment. "Yes, take the scans of Commander Shepard, concentrating on the facial implants, and then the block on my cabin is to be continued."

"Understood, Operative Lawson."

Shepard sits forward in her chair. "You can ban that thing from your room? Why didn't I think of that?"

Miranda leans back in her seat and folds her hands in her lap. "She gave me… sufficient cause to want my privacy. You're more than welcome to do the same thing in your own cabin."

Shepard nods vigorously. "Fucking ay! That AI is creepy. Whose brain wave was it to put one on my ship? My history with sentient machines speaks for itself."

Miranda pinches the bridge of her nose and clenches her jaw. "It was my idea, actually."

Shepard bites her lip for a moment, before bursting into a short fit of laughter. "Well, this is awkward. Sorry, Miranda."

Miranda straightens up and faces the commander. "Don't apologize. EDI has her uses, but I understand your concerns."

Miranda stands up and crosses the room. She kneels in front of the soldier. "May I?" she asks, gesturing towards the visible scars.

Shepard juts her chin out. "Yeah, go for it."

Miranda runs the pads of her fingers across Shepard's jawline. The flesh is damp and flushed from the exercise, and the areas surrounding the scars are hot to the touch. The implants are semi-visible through the thin layer of skin covering them, and they're glowing a light orange color.

"Operative Lawson, thermal readings of Commander Shepard's cybernetic materials show an increased heat spike in the implants attached to the mental foramen and zygomatico-maxillary suture."

Miranda stands back up and crosses the room, returning to her seat. "Hmm… I suspected as much. Thank you EDI."

Shepard is sitting with a blank look on her face. "Can somebody please translate that into soldier for me?"

Miranda nods slowly, deep in thought. "Yes, sorry Shepard. The implants attached to your jaw and cheekbone are heating up when your body temperature rises. They were the last ones I inserted, so they had the least amount of time to heal before Wilson's coup attempt."

Shepard unconsciously touches her face. "Can you fix them?"

Miranda breaks out of her daze and looks Shepard in the eyes. "Yes. I'll work with Dr Chakwas, and we'll find a way to fix them. We can probably heal the exterior scars completely, if you'd like?"

Shepard nods vigorously. "Yes please. I mean, chicks dig scars and all that, but it's usually battle scars that are attractive. I don't think that displaying the scars from when a bunch of mad scientists frankensteined my dead body will be much of a panty dropper. No offense."

"No offense taken, Shepard," Miranda says as she suppresses a laugh. "And when you have a way with words like that, who needs battle scars?"

"Oh shut up. You knew what I meant," Shepard says with a soft chuckle, absentmindedly stroking her jaw. "Hey, do you think you could heal Garrus' scars as well?"

Miranda shakes her head sympathetically. "No, Shepard, I doubt it. Turian skin is much more complex to synthesize than the human dermis. Plus, from what I've seen, Archangel seems quite pleased with his scars."

"I guess," Shepard says, folding her legs. "I just hate seeing them. A constant reminder that I let my truest ally take a rocket to the face."

Miranda pauses, slightly taken off balance. Shepard hasn't expressed any signs of emotional attachments up until this point. "You and Vakarian are close?"

"Yeah," Shepard says, nodding, "I can count on one hand the amount of people who've had my back like he has. But I understand. If it can't be done, it can't be done. I'd still like mind healed though. Not even undead soldiers can escape the curse of vanity."

Miranda sits back and drums her fingers on the arms of her chair. "To be safe, in order to prevent any further deterioration, you should avoid exerting yourself. Keep your work-outs to a minimum, and we'll avoid any scenarios which might lead to combat."

"I guess I should cancel the Consort's girls that I had booked for a gang bang in my cabin tonight then?" Shepard says with a grin.

Miranda rolls her eyes and sighs. She's only half sure that Shepard is joking. "Yes, that would probably be wise."

Shepard stands from her seat, stretching out a stiff calf. "Don't take too long with the cure then, if I have to wait another two years I might explode."

Miranda swallows hard and feels the increasingly familiar flush creep up her neck. "You have an interesting hierarchy of priorities. It should take less than a week for us to come up with a fix. Is there anything else I can do for you, Commander?"

Shepard pauses at the door and crosses her arms over her chest. "Actually, I wanted to ask you something."

"Of course. Part of my job is to allay any of your concerns or questions."

Shepard shifts her weight from one leg to the other. "Okay then. I'm giving you permission to speak freely, not that you seem to need it anyway. I know you follow my orders because it's your job, but do you approve of the way that I go about doing things?"

Miranda pauses and studies Shepard's face before answering. "I don't see why my approval matters, you're the commanding officer. As long as you don't betray Cerberus, I have no issues with any action that you deem necessary."

Shepard scratches her head. "Don't get me wrong, I have no plans on changing the way I conduct myself. I'm just used to getting more feedback from the Alliance. So, as my Executive Officer, when I give you an order like, shooting those unarmed batarians on Omega, for example, what do you think?"

Miranda hesitates as she formulates an answer that she can actually say out loud. _I think you're breathtaking. Perfect. You're like me, but with a bigger gun. _No, they all seem a little bit too forward.

"I have the utmost respect for your abilities, Shepard. You're strong, determined, you keep your focus on the mission, and you don't get bogged down by emotions. Those are all admirable qualities."

"Hmm… I hadn't expected that," Shepard says with a slight frown. "I'm used to copping shit off my XO's for 'being a warmonger' or 'bullets being my only negotiating tool'. Your approval is… refreshing."

Miranda nods tersely. "I think you're doing a remarkably good job, Shepard. I'm proud to serve with you. You have my full support."

Shepard looks at Miranda as if she is seeing her for the first time. "Thank you. That means a lot to me. I'm proud to serve with you too, Miranda."


	3. Possession

_A/N: Thank you for the feedback, please, keep it coming, it's extremely helpful!_

* * *

**3**

**POSSESSION**

Miranda pauses at the door of the med-bay. She can hear loud giggling, dispersed by the sounds of excited banter being thrown back and forth. _Damn it, where is Shepard? She is meant to be getting those implants fixed! _She compresses the control button, and the door opens with a loud hiss.

" - did not!"

"Yes he did! I saw it with my own eyes, Commander!"

Shepard is sitting on the bed in her hospital gown, cradling a glass. She disintegrates into another loud fit of giggles, as Dr Chakwas breathlessly joins in her revelry. They're both sipping the same purple liquid, and their cheeks are flushed bright pink. Miranda scans them both from head to toe, before spotting the Serrice Ice Brandy sitting on the doctor's desk.

"Really? I send the commander in here to get her implants healed, and you get drunk with her?" Miranda looks at Dr Chakwas incredulously.

Chakwas stifles her giggles for long enough to answer. "Don't blame me, Miss Lawson! She brought the booze in here and ordered me to drink it with her! It was out of my control!"

Shepard throws her head back and laughs again. "It's true, it's true, her hands were tied. It's insubordination to defy a direct order from your commander."

Miranda rolls her eyes and crosses the room. "Did you at least get the procedure done before you two piss-heads started drinking?"

The commander and Chief Medical Officer share a glance, before they both break into raucous laughter again.

Miranda exhales loudly. "This is completely juvenile! Shepard, sit still while I examine you."

Shepard polishes off the last of her drink and tries to sit still, between small fits of giggles. Miranda keeps her face as stern as possible, even though having the most feared human being in the galaxy sitting in front of her, half drunk and giggling, almost brings a smile to her lips. She uses her omni-tool to read the implants, which seem to be sitting at a normal temperature, and the skin has healed over them nicely. She runs her fingers over Shepard's jawline, marveling at the soft skin and strong bone structure. She stands back and looks at the commander's face. No signs of flaws or scarring, she's…

_Perfect._

Miranda swallows hard. "Well, preliminary results indicate that the procedure was successful. Alert myself or Dr Chakwas if you feel any further discomfort. Apart from that, you can go back to your usual exercise regimen and start as many gunfights as you see fit."

Shepard bounces off the bed like an enthusiastic child and lands on her feet. "You forgot the most important form of physical exertion that I can now resume, thank you Miss Lawson."

Miranda sighs. "Yes Shepard, you have clearance for that too, if you wish."

Dr Chakwas looks back and forth between them. 'What have I missed?"

Shepard gives Miranda a light hip and shoulder. "I'm just trying to make Operative Grumpy over here blush by talking about my sex life. Or current lack thereof."

Dr Chakwas almost chokes on her brandy. "_Janey!_ I'm a friend of your mother's! I should not be hearing this!"

Shepard walks over to the desk and refills both their cups, before drinking deeply from her own. "Oh come on Karin, don't be shy. I'm 29 years old, in peak physical condition, and _you've_ gotten more than I have in the last two years!"

Dr Chakwas blanches and doesn't say anything. Shepard puts her cup down and strips the hospital gown off, standing in her bra and underwear, before collecting her clothes from the side of the bed.

Miranda clears her throat and tries to avoid staring at Shepard as she stands so scantily clad. "Actually, you're 31, Shepard."

Shepard turns her gaze towards her, and Miranda can see the commander's liquor-addled mind ticking over as she pulls her tee-shirt on. "Son of a bitch! I missed my 30th birthday! Why does this always happen to me?! Stuck on that crappy Mars assignment for my 21st, entrenched at Torfan for my 25th, and dead for my 30th! I just want to have one good birthday party before I die - _Again_!"

Miranda scoffs quietly. "Trust me, Shepard, from somebody who is north of 30 herself, you didn't miss much."

"I can vouch for that!" Dr Chakwas interjects loudly.

Shepard yanks up her pants and frowns. "You are both missing the point. Chakwas, pour me another drink. Lawson, I'm ordering you to have one too. I'm not leaving here until this bottle is empty."

* * *

"Goddammit Shepard, you weigh a ton."

"You calling me fat, Mislawwwson?"

"Oh God, I am banning all alcohol on this vessel from now on. You're a mess. How much did you have to drink before I got there?" The weight pressing down on her shoulder is making it hard for her to breathe.

Shepard shrugs, and the movement sends them both stumbling into the nearest wall. "One, maybe two? Actually, I'm lying so that you don't get angry. It was at least five."

"I'm not angry Shepard, I just wish you could walk a little bit straighter. I'm going to break my back supporting your body-weight like this."

Shepard chuckles loudly. "You biotics are so cute. You're alllll weak 'n' shit."

Miranda gives Shepard a quick dig in the ribs with her elbow. "Watch who you're saying that to, Shepard. I could crush your head if I wanted to."

"Oooh, s-s-scary…"

Miranda bumps the door control to Shepard's room with her hip, and helps the inebriated commander climb down the steps to her bed. Miranda hasn't seen the captain's cabin since Shepard moved in. There's an impressive array of fish circling around the tank, and the commander has started a collection of model space ships. She can hear a strange squeaking sound coming from the corner, and when she looks at the source, she sees a hamster running around in a wheel.

"For somebody who spends so little time in her cabin, you have a lot of pets," Miranda comments, looking around as she lowers Shepard into a sitting position on the bed.

Shepard looks down at the floor and shrugs. "I like the company," she says quietly.

Miranda nods, but doubts Shepard sees the movement. Miranda understands loneliness too well. She kneels in front of Shepard and pulls off her boots, while Shepard flops down on the bed.

"I remember this…" Shepard mumbles as she starts wriggling her way up towards her pillow.

Miranda looks at Shepard curiously as she pulls back the covers and helps the soldier get under them. "You remember what?"

"You. Looking after me. I woke up once, and you were there. My heart was racing, and you held my hand until I fell back to sleep."

Miranda remembers it, but she's surprised that Shepard does. Shepard had only been showing rudimentary signs of brain activity on the day that she woke up and nearly flat-lined. "I didn't realize you remembered that."

Shepard makes an unexpected movement, and briefly takes Miranda's hand in her own. "Yes, I remember. You're pretty mean to people, but you're always nice to me. Why is that?"

Miranda gently pulls her hand away and looks in another direction, eternally thankful that Shepard is too drunk to see the look on her face. _Change the subject immediately!_

"Do you want me to get you a glass of water before I go?" she asks as she straightens the covers out. She looks down at Shepard, who has already fallen asleep. She smiles to herself and shakes her head.

_The Butcher of Torfan, defeater of Geth, cybernetically modified super soldier, and absolute lightweight with the drinks. Commander Shepard, you are bloody adorable. _

* * *

"Oh, good evening Operative Lawson. It's unusual to see you up on the bridge."

"At ease, Yeoman Chambers. Commander Shepard is currently indisposed, and I'm just checking to make sure that everything is running smoothly up here."

Kelly smiles warmly and nods her head. "Everything is fine, ma'am. Our course for the Citadel is mapped and we're making excellent time."

"That's good. We have a lot to do there. Is there anything else I need to know?"

"I will have my latest report on your desk by tomorrow."

Miranda nods understandingly. The Illusive Man is keeping tabs on Shepard, as is his right to do so after such a big investment. Miranda makes no secret of the fact that she reports every move back to him, but Kelly is the plant that Shepard will least expect. The young redhead carries herself with a youthful innocence. She's disarmingly charming, and her training allows her to pick up easily on the psychological tells that most people have trouble concealing.

Miranda debates whether or not to disclose the truth about Shepard's malady. She doesn't want the appearance of secrecy. But she decides against it. Getting drunk can easily be misconstrued as a sign of instability. Miranda had seen firsthand that it had not been anything quite so sinister. She is suddenly feeling very protective of Shepard. Strange, after having her laid out naked and unconscious for over two years, that dragging her drunken ass up to her cabin is the most vulnerable she's ever seen the commander. Shepard's comfort level around Dr Chakwas is understandable - expected, even - the Alliance doctor had been the attending physician at Shepard's birth, and had watched the girl grow up. But for Shepard to let her guard down in front of Miranda like that shows a growing level of trust. Miranda feels honored.

Kelly Chambers' voice drags her away from her thoughts.

"I'm sorry Chambers, what were you saying?"

"I was saying that the commander is not what I expected when I learned I was getting this assignment. Given her fearsome reputation, I expected something more… well, _fearsome_. She's a wonderful woman."

Miranda eyes the redhead off carefully. "You sound like you're developing a bit of a crush there, Yeoman."

Kelly gives a small nod. "I think it's normal to be in awe of such a person. I make no apologies for it."

Miranda folds her arms over her chest, and feels herself start to bristle. "Just try to keep it professional, please."

"Cerberus has no regulations against fraternization, ma'am," Kelly answers as she holds her senior operative's gaze confidently.

"Cerberus may not, but this mission is too important to jeopardize over a school girl crush." The words leave Miranda's mouth, and she's not entirely sure whether she's actually saying them to Kelly, or to herself.

"I understand, ma'am. But having somebody to fight for can be a huge motivator in missions such as these. Commander Shepard's psychological profile suggests that she has a soldier's mentality. She is prone to commit acts of extreme violence when her protective instincts are engaged. She is more likely to be successful on her mission if she has somebody to care about."

Miranda exhales sharply. "Wouldn't you prefer to curl up with one of the young ensigns over there? Commander Shepard is too old for you."

"Not that much older," Kelly says with a shrug. "Not that it matters, anyway. I care about a person's character, not their age, gender or race."

Miranda grits her teeth. This is a losing battle that she's not entirely sure she should be fighting. She has been prone to possessiveness and jealousy in the past, a side-effect of living a life where it was always made clear that nothing was ever truly hers. But Shepard isn't a body on a slab that she can control, not anymore.

"I want that report on my desk by 0900 sharp."

"Of course, ma'am." Kelly turns away awkwardly. "Operative Lawson?" she says quietly, turning back around. "May I have permission to speak freely?"

Miranda gives an impatient hand gesture. "If you must, Chambers."

"I wanted to apologize for speaking out of turn about Commander Shepard just now. I didn't realize that you two were involved."

Miranda feels her entire face tense with anger. "Why would you say something so absurd, Chambers?"

The young yeoman blushes, and tucks a strand of hair behind her ear. "As soon as we started speaking about Commander Shepard, you began displaying body language associated with jealousy. Your gestures were sharp and your facial features became tight. I just assumed - "

"Do a little bit less assuming, and a little bit more work, Chambers. I'm not here to be analyzed."

"Yes ma'am," Kelly says with a small salute as Miranda turns on her heel and heads back to the elevator. _Note to self: Avoid Yeoman Chambers. She sees everything._

* * *

**1 week later**

**Bang, bang!**

Shepard's 8am knock on the wall between the galley and Miranda's office.

"White with one!" Miranda calls out.

"Yes ma'am!" she hears Shepard's muffled reply.

A few moments later, Shepard steps through the door of the XO's office with two steaming hot mugs in her hand.

"My lady," she says theatrically as she hands over Miranda's coffee. Miranda accepts it gratefully and burns her tongue on the first sip. It had been another long night of reports.

"So, what's on for today, partner?" Shepard asks as she casually settles in the seat opposite Miranda.

Miranda inclines an eyebrow. "Partner? I hadn't figured you for the type to share power, Shepard."

Shepard leans back and chuckles. "Well, sidekick is probably a more appropriate term for you, but I didn't want to hurt your delicate feelings."

Miranda shoots a small biotic wave at her, and Shepard flinches as her hand gets hit by the shock. "That's cheating…" Shepard mutters as she takes a long sip of her coffee.

"We all have our talents, Shepard. I can't help it if my talents include moving atomic particles with the power of my mind, and your talents include making sub-standard coffee."

"_Sub standard_?" Shepard asks with a throaty laugh. "Ouch! I think you're on coffee duty from now on then. Unless a biotic god such as yourself can't handle the task of a mere mortal."

Miranda smirks and hands Shepard the datapad with the mission brief. Shepard studies it, reading it quickly. She looks up at Miranda. "Liara T'Soni is on Ilium?"

Miranda nods, before taking another sip of her coffee. She hopes that Shepard didn't take the teasing seriously. It began naturally, when Shepard came in for an update last week while nursing a hangover, and together, they discovered the espresso machine in the galley. Now, their morning coffees are the highlight of Miranda's day.

Shepard inclines her head slightly. "That could work…" she mutters quietly.

"What do you mean?" Miranda asks, keeping her tone even. Shepard's relationship to the asari archaeologist has been a curiosity of Miranda's ever since Liara delivered Shepard's body to Cerberus. Learning of Shepard's sexual preference has only deepened Miranda's suspicions. She shouldn't be pursuing this infatuation at all, and certainly not if Shepard is already committed elsewhere.

"A highly placed information broker on an important hub world could be a great resource. If she's still loyal to me, that is."

Miranda feels herself relax slightly. _She's just a contact._ "She's still loyal to you, Shepard," Miranda answers softly, not wishing to elaborate any further.

Shepard nods and takes another long sip of her coffee, while frowning at the datapad. "A drell assassin? Some of these dossiers you people have put together…"

Miranda puts up her hands in innocence. "I didn't put them together Shepard, I'm equally as confused by some of these choices as you are. I mean, look at Jack!"

Shepard nods in agreement. "Exactly. Jack is powerful, but completely unstable. She has the potential to be a great ally, or she could kill us all in our sleep and take off with the ship."

Miranda snorts into her mug. "She can try."

Shepard rolls her eyes. "By the end of this mission, you two will have either kissed each other, or killed each other. If it's the former, please give me vid footage, if it's the latter, just try to keep the mess to a minimum."

Miranda lets a small laugh escape her lips. Shepard smiles at her. "You have a really nice laugh. I wish I heard it more often."

Miranda squirms in her seat as she feels her heart flutter. "Not everybody can laugh their way through life and death scenarios like you do."

Shepard finishes her coffee and puts the datapad back on the table. "One of the perks of being a glorified zombie, I suppose," she says as she stiffly gets up from her seat.

"Why are you holding your neck like that?" Miranda asks as Shepard makes her way to the door.

Shepard turns around awkwardly. "I just slept on it funny. No big deal."

Miranda puts her coffee down and purses her lips. "No big deal for somebody who doesn't have an important job to do. Sit back down," she says as she gestures to the chair.

Shepard gives her a confused frown and takes a seat. Miranda stands up and walks around the desk, positioning herself behind Shepard's seated back. "Do you mind if I give you a quick inspection?" she asks, with her hands hovering above Shepard's neck.

"If you think it will help," Shepard answers casually.

Miranda places her hands on either side of Shepard's neck and quickly feels the problem. "Ah. Your left sternocleidomastoid has been overextended. I can work that out for you."

Shepard gives a quiet gasp as Miranda starts kneading the muscle with her fingers. "I don't even know what that means but keep doing that," Shepard groans.

Miranda smiles to herself. "You have a stiff neck. You likely did it when you worked out yesterday, and it seized up over night. Don't worry, it's an easy fix."

"An easy fix for someone who - oh god, that feels good - who knows what they're doing. How do you know all this stuff?"

Miranda starts using the knuckle of her index finger to press into the commander's tender neck. "Have you ever tried to rebuild a human body without some basic knowledge of anatomy?"

Shepard laughs before giving a small grunt. "Ah, good point."

Miranda moves in front of Shepard and squats before her, massaging the muscle from a different angle. Shepard stiffens slightly at her proximity, and Miranda realizes that she's sitting a few inches away from Shepard's face, with her arm draped over her neck. After her increasingly frequent dreams, this feels way too familiar.

Shepard looks up and meets her eyes. Miranda's hand temporarily stops massaging and her fingers start stroking the tender skin at the back of the commander's neck. Shepard gulps audibly, and brushes a strand of hair out of Miranda's face, tucking it behind her ear. She hesitates with her hand, before resting it lightly on Miranda's cheek.

Miranda's entire body buzzes from the touch, as Shepard's eyes bore into her. Her heart is hammering so hard in her chest that she's starting to feel lightheaded. It's too much. Suddenly, she's standing. Shepard's hand falls back into her lap, and she looks slightly confused.

Miranda clears her throat. "That should be feeling much looser now. Can you turn your head properly?"

Shepard turns left to right, and smiles politely. "Yes, that's much better. Thanks."

Miranda returns to her seat, and turns her attention back towards her terminal. Shepard stands slowly, and makes her way to the door. "Will you be coming planet-side with me?" she asks in a low voice.

Miranda looks up. "If you need me to, I will."

Shepard nods slowly. "Okay. Once we've contracted the assassin, maybe I can shout you some lunch? Nos Astras is supposed to be beautiful."

"It's a cultural marvel," Miranda says, turning back to her screen. "You'll like it. But lunch will have to wait, I have a lot of work to do. Maybe some other time."

"Okay then," Shepard says curtly as she compresses the control and walks out the door.

Miranda sits back in her seat and takes a breath. _What the hell was that?_

* * *

Miranda eyes the green asari up and down. Shepard has been talking to her for a while now. _Too long. I hate the way the asari do that. Flaunt their sexuality while just having a normal conversation. What is the relevance of moving her hips like that? How does an asari even become green? Shepard attracts the strangest types_.

Shepard shoots an awkward glance in Miranda's direction, before turning back to the green asari. "Uh, yeah, I've just finished up some business here, actually. We could go now, if you have the time?"

"I'd like that, Commander," the asari says, reaching out and running her hand along Shepard's upper arm.

_She's wearing armor, she can't even feel that you bloody idiot!_

Shepard turns back to her squad-mates. "You two head back to the Normandy. I'm just going to take Shiala out for a quick drink."

"What?" Miranda hears the word explode from her own mouth, "You're going off with her? Just like that? Do you even know her?"

Shepard cocks her head and gives a quizzical frown. "Yes, I know her, Miranda."

"But… we need to debrief. We have a new crew member to orientate. You can't just abandon the mission whenever it suits you."

Shepard closes the distance between them and speaks in a more hushed tone. "I'm not abandoning the mission, Miranda, I'm having a drink with an old friend. I'll be twenty minutes. The assassin can wait that long, I'm sure."

"But - "

"Miranda, if you have a real objection to make, then tell me, I'm all ears. But don't throw the mission back up in my face." Shepard gives Miranda a meaningful look, and Miranda can suddenly feel Shepard's phantom fingertips on her cheek.

She grits her teeth and says no more. Shepard brushes past her and the asari follows quickly, taking the commander's hand in her own. Shepard looks surprised as she quickly surveys their linked fingers, but doesn't pull away.

Miranda feels a flush creeping up her neck.

She hears a quiet whistle behind her. "Wow, that Sheppy's really got a way with the ladies, huh?" Kasumi says in her musical voice.

Miranda frowns and starts to stride in the direction of the docking bay. "_Apparently_," she says, a note of sarcasm ringing in the word.

Kasumi falls into step with Miranda, and turns towards her. "I think you and Shep make a really good team, Miranda."

"Thank you Kasumi. I agree. The mission is coming along surprisingly well."

Kasumi nods slowly. "What I mean is, you two have a lot of chemistry."

Miranda focuses her gaze on the shiny floor laid out before her feet. "Yes, I suppose we do. It always makes it easier for a good commander to have a strong right hand, and vice versa. Shepard and I compliment each other well."

Kasumi purses her lips and clears her throat. "What I'm trying to say is, Shepard likes you, and you like her back. I spend enough time as an observer to be able to pick up on these things. You shouldn't stand by while she goes off with that asari. Go and tell her how you feel. Trust me, you might not always get a second chance."

Miranda feels the flush in her face growing. "I don't appreciate your insinuations, Kasumi. The commander and I have a business relationship. The rest of the crew, yourself included, could certainly afford to behave more professionally."

Kasumi shrugs sadly, as she glances over her shoulder in the direction that Shepard and the asari went in. "Have it your way, Miss Lawson."

* * *

She alternates between pacing her office, and biting her fingernails. After thirty minutes of silence, she clicks the locator on her terminal. It fixes in on Shepard's location. She is three wards away from where they'd left her. Miranda takes the coordinates, and finds a match for it on the extranet. _The Blue Eternity Luxury Hotel_. She swallows the lump in her throat, and attempts to get back to work.

After less than ten minutes of her staring blankly at her screen with her head buzzing, EDI's voice rings out. "The Commanding Officer is aboard. Executive Officer Lawson stands relieved."

Miranda sits at her desk for a long moment, her stomach churning. 'EDI?" she calls out quietly, "Where is Commander Shepard's current location?"

"Commander Shepard has retired to the captain's cabin."

"Is she… alone?"

"Affirmative."

Miranda drums her fingers on her desk for another long moment, deciding what to do. She stands and hastens her way towards the elevator. She spends the short ride lost in thought. She stands in front of Shepard's door, paralyzed by uncertainty, still trying to figure out what to say.

"Commander?" she calls out.

There's a short pause, before Shepard responds. "Come in Miranda."

Miranda steps through the door and finds the commander with her back to her, sitting at her terminal. Shepard turns and stands.

"Take a… umm… seat…" Shepard looks around her cabin before shrugging her shoulders and gesturing towards the couch in the corner. "Your office is way better suited for meetings. No wonder I'm always the one running around to see people, and they're never coming to me."

Miranda takes long, confident strides and perches at the end of the corner lounge. Shepard sits at the opposite end, facing her.

"So, what can I do for you, Miranda?" she asks, looking at Miranda appraisingly.

Miranda hesitates, feeling the words clinging to the back of her throat. "I want to talk about what happened today on Illium…"

Shepard nods slowly. "Okay. Fair enough. I may have gone a bit too far by punching that salarian, but I stand by pushing that smartass mercenary out of the window."

_Don't play dumb with me, Shepard! _"I'm not talking about that, Commander. You kill people all the time, it's a standard day for you."

Shepard's shoulders slump slightly. "You want to talk about Shiala, then?"

Miranda nods stiffly and picks at an imaginary loose thread on her pristine uniform. "You can't put the mission at risk like that."

"That had absolutely nothing to do with the mission Miranda, and you know it," Shepard responds petulantly.

Miranda frowns and meets Shepard's gaze. "I didn't spend two years rebuilding that body just so that you can put it at risk by going to a hotel with some strange asari."

Shepard clenches her jaw and fists. "I appreciate what you and the Lazarus Project did for me, but let me make this clear; you don't own me. This body was mine for 29 years before you got your hands on it, and I'm back in control of it again. I left my omni-locator turned on, I was with somebody I trusted, and nothing bad happened. You have no right to scold me."

"Nothing bad happened, _this time_. What if the next time you choose a conquest, it's someone that's been contracted to kill you? The asari, turians and salarians weren't particularly thrilled when you left their councillors to die."

Shepard gives a dismissive wave. "Oh please. The turians would've respected my sound military strategy, Liara would warn me about anything being planned by the asari High Command, and the salarians are too cowardly to try anything."

"You are deliberately missing my point, Shepard."

Shepard drops her gaze and adjusts her tone of voice. "I think you need to tell me what you're really upset about, Miranda."

_Upset? **UPSET?!** _Miranda is too flustered to form a coherent sentence, the anger and jealousy swirling in her chest and causing her tongue to go limp. She stands up and quickly crosses the room, the door in sight. Shepard utters a five word sentence to her departing back that she barely hears over her own thoughts.

Miranda freezes in the doorway, but keeps her back to the commander. "What did you say?"

The voice is quiet and full of humility. "I said, I didn't sleep with her."

_Bullshit_. "That lie is a complete insult my intelligence. You were gone for 45 minutes, and you were at a hotel."

Shepard chuckles softly. "You want to talk about insults? The fact that you think I'd be done in 45 minutes is insulting."

Miranda turns to face Shepard. "I'm being serious. You can't actually expect me to believe that."

Shepard is standing and looking Miranda in the face. "Believe what you want to believe. I don't lie. I wanted to go through with it, but when we got to the hotel I just… couldn't. I have no problem with casual sex, but it just didn't feel right with her. Probably because... I have feelings for somebody else." Shepard's cheeks grow pink and she drops her gaze to the floor. "So… do you have anything you'd like to add?"

Miranda looks Shepard up and down. Her instincts tell her that Shepard is telling the truth, for all the relevance that has. "I think the mission is too important to let personal feelings interfere. You need to be more professional."

Shepard gives Miranda a sad smile. "Noted. I think we both have work to do, so please show yourself out, Miss Lawson. Dismissed."


	4. Connections

**4**

**CONNECTIONS**

Miranda reads the report again. _This is not a great result. Shepard will be taking this hard_. She presses the commlink to Shepard's cabin. "Shepard?"

There is a short pause, before the voice on the other end comes out. "Yes, Miss Lawson?"

Miranda runs her hand through her hair. Building relationships with people isn't her strong suit to begin with; maintaining them is almost impossible. "Can you meet me in my office? I would like to discuss what happened on Horizon."

"You have my report, Lawson. Read it, send it through to the Illusive Man, do whatever it is you do here." Miranda's heart sinks when she hears how cold Shepard's tone is.

"I have read it. It sounds like the outcome was... not ideal. I thought you might need to talk about it?"

There's another short pause. "If I need counselling, I'll make an appointment with Chambers. Until then, I need a drink. A big one. Where is all the fucking liquor on this vessel anyway? Is the Normandy under some sort of ship-wide prohibition that I know nothing about?"

Miranda purses her lips. _You knew about it, you were just too drunk to remember._ "Alcohol doesn't solve everything, Shepard."

"Spoken by someone who obviously doesn't drink. And that's Commander Shepard to you, Miss Lawson."

The commlink is abruptly disconnected, and Miranda sits back in her seat. _That went well_… She bites her lip as she decides what to do. Shepard will likely tear the ship apart in the mood she's in. Miranda exits her office quickly and treads the path up to the commander's cabin.

After her third unanswered knock, she enlists help. "EDI?" she whispers.

"Yes Operative Lawson?" EDI's voice rings out.

"Is the commander still in her cabin?"

"Yes. Commander Shepard is currently sitting at her extranet terminal."

"What is she doing?"

"She is sitting still. She is engaging in behavior that you humans call: ignoring."

Miranda grits her teeth and bangs louder. "Damn it, Shepard, open this door! I'm not leaving until you do."

There's a long pause, and then the door control turns green, hissing open slowly. Commander Shepard stands on the other side, her thin arms crossed over her chest. "I thought I made myself clear, Miss Lawson."

Miranda brushes past Shepard and steps through into her cabin.

"Come on in," Shepard says sarcastically.

"I'm sorry about the colony," Miranda blurts out as she turns towards Shepard.

Shepard trains her suspicious gaze on Miranda's face. "Are you? You know the Illusive Man lured the Collectors there deliberately, don't you? A colony, 5,000 people strong, and we saved less than two dozen of them."

Miranda hadn't actually known, not until after the fact, but she can't let Shepard know that. Shepard already doesn't trust the Illusive Man, and now, Miranda is starting to have some niggling doubts about him too. "It was the best chance we had at getting intel on the Collectors, Shepard."

"Yeah, yeah. Get the job done, at any cost. You don't need to school me on the ethos, Lawson. I've been a soldier since I was old enough to buy porn."

Miranda pauses, and looks at Shepard's face. She looks sad and exhausted. "What we got today will save hundreds of thousands of people, Shepard. Keep the bigger picture in mind."

Shepard gives a small salute. "Yes, ma'am. Anything else?"

Miranda shifts her weight from one foot the other. She isn't sure whether to ask. "Your report mentioned that Operations Chief Ashley Williams was there?"

Shepard rubs her neck uncomfortably. "Yes, she was."

Miranda hesitates, waiting for an elaboration from Shepard which never comes. "Does that have anything to do with why the Collectors were there?"

"It would seem so," Shepard says with a grim nod. "Well, the Illusive Man thinks so anyway, which is why he served Horizon up for them on a platter."

"Are you alright?" Miranda moves slightly forward, her intentions unclear, even in her own mind.

Shepard's face becomes impassive and her tone bitter. "I'm fine. I lost a whole colony, and one of my best friends accused me of being a traitor. It's been a really good day. Is there anything else you needed, Miranda?"

Miranda drops her gaze. _Now isn't the time. **No, now is the only time**. **The relocation is happening tomorrow**. _"Shepard… I… need your help with something."

Shepard meets her gaze, sensing the seriousness of her tone. "Of course. What is it?"

* * *

**25 Years Ago**

_She runs along the ground. The soft sand gives way under her light feet as the wind whips through her hair. The waves crash loudly to her left. She feels the sun beating down on the exposed skin of her face and arms. She is aware of the two bodyguards trailing twenty feet behind, but she lets them fade into obscurity. Right now, she is free._

_He comes out of nowhere, all freckles and missing teeth. "What's your name?" he asks her, scratching his head._

_"Miranda," she answers suspiciously. She's never spoken to a child her own age before. "What's yours?"_

_"Niket," he says, squinting into the sun, "Why are those men following you?"_

_She feels the sand shift under her feet as she tries to position herself confidently, the way Father tells her to. "They're my father's men," she says evenly, in a voice that doesn't seem to belong to a nine-year-old child._

_"Okay," he says with a disinterested shrug, "Do you want to come and play with me?"_

_She looks over her shoulder. The bodyguards are within proximity, but they're not stopping this boy from talking to her. This must be acceptable behavior._

_"Okay," she says, looking the boy up and down, "I can go back inside and get one of my mathematics simulators."_

_He frowns at her, utter confusion on his features. "Mathimax… Mathimat… what? I'm making sand castles."_

_She looks down at the direction he is pointing. There are mounds of sand, surrounded by deep holes. "They don't look like castles," she says doubtfully, "They have no frame, no stonework, and no towers. That is just sand piled on top of itself."_

_He rolls his eyes. "No, they're castles. And those are the lakes. I'm the King, and you can be the Princess."_

_She puts her hands on her skinny hips. "It's not possible for you to be a King. Australia separated from the constitutional monarchy model of government in the republic referendum held in 2068. We no longer have ties to a sovereign ruler."_

_He stares at her blankly. "You're weird. Come with me, I'll show you." He grabs her hand and leads her towards his creations._

_"Okay," she says as she follows him._

* * *

Miranda's heels click against the tiled floor to the beat of her pounding heart. She does her best not to look back. She clenches her jaw and refuses to let herself cry. She can do that behind the closed door of her cabin when she gets back to the Normandy. She steps into the elevator, and her two companions make small movements to the side to accommodate the newest inhabitant. Miranda looks up and takes one last look at Oriana, before the doors hiss closed.

She feels the dam inside her break and to her horror, the salt water wells uncontrollably in her eyes. She's gained a sister, but lost a best friend. She feels the weight of her gun on her hip. She has taken many lives with it today, but Niket's had been... difficult. She feels a single tear slip down her right cheek, and she grinds her teeth as she wills it to evaporate. She gives a slight turn of her face and sizes up her female companion.

Shepard has either not noticed her tears, or has been kind enough not to comment. Knowing what she knows about the commander, Miranda suspects it's the latter. The elevator reaches the floor below quickly, and Shepard wordlessly hails a sky cab. The soldier opens the front passenger door and gestures for Miranda to get in, while her and Thane slide into the backseat. Miranda doesn't know what she's more grateful for - the fact that Shepard just carved her way through over one hundred Eclipse mercenaries to save Oriana, or the fact that she has the emotional intelligence to let Miranda's fragility go unspoken. Miranda stares out the window and watches half of Ilium pass by her in a blur, while Shepard and Thane sit silently in the back. The cab pulls up to its destination and Shepard is out and opening Miranda's door before the operative even has time to mentally register the fact that they've stopped.

"Thane, I'll meet you back on board the ship," Shepard says, her tone giving no hint of being anything other than a direct order.

Thane blinks his large, onyx eyes in understanding, and gives a small nod. "Yes, siha." He turns on his heel, his hands folded behind his back, and quickly disappears from view.

Miranda is as plyable as dough as Shepard leads her by the elbow into the private back room of the Eternity Bar. Miranda stands stiffly, her head bowed, eyes resting on her feet. The tears have been flowing in a steady stream ever since the elevator doors closed on the vision of her sister, and Miranda is too drained to even feel embarrassed. Shepard takes her face in her hands and lifts her chin slightly. She uses the pads of her thumbs to wipe away the streaks of saltwater from both of Miranda's cheeks.

"Are you okay?" she asks softly.

Miranda meets Shepard's eyes, which are full of concern, and she gives a short nod in response, words failing her.

Shepard wraps her arms around Miranda's back, drawing her in for a hug and resting her chin on the top of Miranda's shoulder. It's a comforting gesture, but for all Miranda's emotional turmoil, she feels her heartbeat speed up at the intimate contact.

Shepard pats her back soothingly before stepping back. "I bet your sister is glad she got to meet you. I know I would love to find out I have a sister."

Miranda's heart feels lighter at the thought of Oriana. "Thank you for getting me to speak with her. I thought it would be easier on her for me to just walk away, but she adjusted really quickly. She's as smart as I am."

Shepard chuckles. "Still not lacking for confidence, I see. Come on, you've had a fucked up day. I know the exact cure. We're going back to the Normandy, and I'm getting you drunk."

Miranda pauses. _That could end badly_. "I don't think that's a good idea, Shepard."

Shepard puts a hand on Miranda's shoulder. "I have to convince you to drink? What kind of an Australian are you?"

Miranda feels the hint of a smile make it's way onto her lips. Shepard always knows how to make her smile. "First of all, that is a grossly outdated national stereotype, second of all, I haven't even lived there since I was fifteen."

Shepard nudges her playfully with her elbow. "Well, I'm going to indulge myself, so you can either ease my burden and drink half of my liquor, or you can get stuck dragging my sorry ass up to my cabin."

Miranda shifts her feet. "There's no alcohol on the Normandy. I cleared it all out after the last time I got stuck carrying you to bed."

"Ah... so that's what happened to it all. Well, that's easily rectified," Shepard says as she leads her XO by the hand and through the crowded bar. Miranda stands a few feet back while Shepard approaches the counter.

"Hey babe, how you going?" the gruffly voiced asari at the bar says with a welcoming smile.

"Hey, Aethyta," Shepard says with a nod of acknowledgement. "Can I please get six bottles of your best wine?"

Aethyta gives her a small smirk. "No problems, kid. But if you and your girlfriend are going out the back, try not to make a mess."

Shepard throws a quick, apologetic glance in Miranda's direction. "She's not my girlfriend."

Aethyta's grin widens as she gives Miranda an appreciative up and down stare. "Just fuck-buddies then? _Nice_."

Shepard blushes slightly as she hands over her credit chit. "Just friends. No sex. We're all about the wine." Shepard leans in slightly and whispers, "She's straight."

Aethyta laughs, and the sound is like gravel being crushed underfoot. "Really? She's giving off a major bi-vibe, if you ask me."

_Holy hell. Am I seriously this obvious to everyone?_

Shepard gives a small shrug, and says in a low voice, "Maybe. I'm not sure. She's strictly-dickly, as far as I know."

Aethyta's smile broadens. "So that means you're single then? Good to know."

Shepard blushes even further as she loads her arms up with the bottles of wine. "I'll see you later, Aethyta."

"Don't be a stranger, Shepard," Aethyta calls out with a quick wink.

Shepard gestures with her head in the direction of the ship, and Miranda walks shoulder to shoulder with her.

Miranda picks up the speed of her stride. "We'd better get back to the ship quickly, before you get hit on by any more asari."

Shepard staggers slightly, the bottles clinking together in her arms. "Oh. You heard that?"

Miranda smothers her smirk as Shepard falls out of step with her. "Every. Word."

* * *

The women sit side by side in Miranda's cabin. The couch is distractingly close to the bed, a fact which is making Miranda's muscles twitch. Shepard hasn't noticed, she's too busy drinking and trying to make Miranda laugh. There are four empty bottles of wine lined up at their feet. Miranda's face is flushed from the wine as she feels another spurt of giggles escape her throat.

Shepard gesticulates wildly, spilling the wine from her cup slightly. "No shit! Any silly bastard that leaves the house in that stupid looking tech-armor deserves to have his neck snapped!"

"Well, you certainly gave us the advantage in that fight, even if it was just because you disagreed with his taste in fashion."

Shepard gives an animated point of her finger at Miranda. "You! You were quick! I'd barely moved and you just started unloading with your sub-machine gun! There is nothing more awkward than making some bold declaration of war, only to have your squad stand around dumbstruck."

Miranda takes another deep sip of her wine. She's beginning to understand why Shepard enjoys drinking so much._ Everything is so much better right now_. "Awkward? I would imagine getting left blowing in the breeze in the middle of a gunfight would actually be quite deadly."

Shepard throws back her head and laughs. "That too! Worst one ever was when Hackett sent me out to negotiate with some self proclaimed warlord in the Terminus system. Straight off the bat, the guy insults me. I wasn't in the mood for his shit, so I start unloading. I've got the soft hearted T'Soni to my left, and Allenko, the biggest pussy in Alliance history, to my right, and they're both just standing there! Took them about thirty seconds to even draw their weapons. Meanwhile, my shield gets smashed and I cop a bullet to the back of the neck! Scarred like a bitch!"

Miranda shakes her head in amusement. "You are a bloody disaster area. I'm surprised you weren't killed more often."

"It's a modern miracle." Shepard says with a laugh. "It's a shame though, I loved that scar. With this new skin, all my favorite marks and tattoos are gone. I'll have to work on that."

"You had tattoos?" Miranda asks with a cocked head.

Shepard laughs into her cup. "_Tattoo_, I should say, and you probably did me a favor by getting rid of that. Me and an ex-girlfriend got matching ones. It was meant to say 'forever' - or some shit like that, I can't really remember - but it was written in an asari dialect. Turns out it was the asari symbol for 'quad sack'! Liara laughed the blue off her ass when she saw it!"

Miranda snaps to attention. "Liara… saw your tattoo?"

Shepard shrugs her shoulders. "Close quarters ship, minimal bathing facilities, yeah, she got an eyeful every now and then, poor kid. I never slept with her, if that's what you're asking."

"I didn't mean to pry, she just went to a lot of trouble to get your body back."

Shepard nods into her drink. "She's an excellent friend."

Miranda leans back in her seat and crosses one leg over the other. "You make friends so easily," she mutters bitterly, "The one time I trust someone, they betray me."

"Niket was weak and easily manipulated," Shepard says soothingly as she pats Miranda's knee. "You can't let what he did make you push people away."

Miranda swirls her drink around in its cup, staring at the contents. "It's okay, Shepard. Niket and my father hurt me, but they didn't break me."

Shepard smiles and looks out the window. "That's good. I know it wasn't easy for you to open up to me about Oriana, but I'm glad that you did."

Miranda shifts in her seat. "Me too. You really impressed me, Shepard. You helped me without any hesitation, even when I wasn't completely forthcoming with the details. You proved that you're trustworthy, that you're… a friend."

Shepard smiles and looks over at Miranda. "I'm glad to hear you say that. I consider you a friend too. I think we make a really good team."

"Yes, we do," Miranda says with a thoughtful nod, "I had my doubts about working with you, Shepard, but you are… well, look at you. I was created to be perfect, but you're still the best humanity has to offer."

Shepard sits back and sighs. "_Miranda_. Stop bringing it back to your genetic tailoring. You're an amazing woman. If you could see yourself the way that I see you, you'd never doubt it." Shepard swallows hard and blushes slightly. "Sorry. That was an over-share. Too much wine."

_An amazing woman?_ Miranda becomes lost in thought. She looks over at Shepard, who is avoiding eye contact. Maybe it's the alcohol, maybe it's the nightly sex-dreams, or maybe it's being in the presence of the first person who has ever truly understood her, but in that moment, Miranda needs to kiss Shepard.

She leans in quickly, catching Shepard completely off-guard. Shepard flinches and pulls back, a look of surprise on her face.

"I... don't know why I did that," Miranda mumbles out-loud. _I wonder how long I could survive if I just went and hid under my desk for the rest of the mission..._

She's about to excuse herself when Shepard leans over and cradles Miranda's face in her hands. Shepard presses her mouth into Miranda's trembling lips, using just enough pressure to make Miranda hunger for more. Miranda feels her body instinctively respond, as she opens her lips enough to deepen the kiss. She closes her eyes, depriving her of the sense of sight, but heightening the remaining four.

She can hear her heart beating frantically in her ears, the soft hum of the ship, the rhythmic breathing of Shepard and the erratic panting coming out of her own chest.

She can smell the alcohol on both of their breaths, as well as a mixture of their perfumes, combining seamlessly to smell like the one deliberately concocted fragrance.

She can taste the berry lip gloss that is lightly lining Shepard's lips, and the underlying peppermint on her teeth. Her tongue tastes like the sweet Thessian wine that they've both spent the majority of the night drinking.

And Shepard's touch. Miranda's body quivers from head to toe at the sensation of Shepard's tongue frolicking with her own. The lips are warm and impossibly soft. The commander's hands have moved from her face and made their way down her neck, and Miranda's own hands are tangled within Shepard's hair as she presses the other woman into her closely. _I need more._

Miranda starts to lean back, pulling Shepard with her. Miranda moans slightly as she feels Shepard's body on top of hers for the first time. Shepard breaks their lip lock gently, just long enough to prop herself up and start unzipping Miranda's body suit. She makes eye contact with Miranda, and Miranda can see the desire painted plainly across the commander's face. Then her hand stops, leaving the zipper half undone, exposing only the smallest hint of a bra. Shepard sits back, her breathing deep.

"I can't do this…" she mumbles.

Miranda suddenly feels exposed as she lies back on the couch, half unzipped. "What? Why?"

"I'm going to hate myself for this in the morning," Shepard says quietly as she reaches out her hand and does Miranda's zip back up, before looking away from the area. "You've had a bad day, and a lot to drink. I would be taking advantage."

Miranda sits herself up, feeling sobered by Shepard's rejection. "Yes... you're right. This was a mistake. You should go."

A flicker of hurt crosses Shepard's features, but it is only brief. "A mistake. Oh... okay." She gets up quickly and crosses the room.

"Shepard?" Miranda calls out. Shepard turns slightly towards the sound of the voice. _Say_ _something damn it! _Miranda wants to scream. "Never mind," the operative whispers.

The door hisses closed behind the commander, and Miranda puts her head in her hands. It's spinning slightly, whether it's from the alcohol or the kiss, she doesn't know. She breathes deeply, and feels the battle wage between her clinical head and her thumping heart.

_What did I expect her to say? **You didn't want her to say anything, you wanted her to come back and kiss you again.** No, no I didn't. That was a mistake, it could have compromised the mission. **Why would fighting beside someone that you trust and care about compromise the mission?** Shut up. She was probably just kissing me back to be polite. It's been a rough day. **That was a polite kiss, was it?** Just… shut up, damn it. The mission comes first. It has to.**  
**_

* * *

Shepard steps through the door and puts Miranda's coffee down on the desk, with a glass of water and an aspirin beside it. Miranda gives a small, grateful smile. Her head is pounding.

"Do you have a minute, Miranda?"

Miranda runs her hands through her hair, feeling exhausted from the thoughts and questions that had plagued her mind all night. "Yes. I wondered when you'd come back. Listen, what happened last night was a simple mistake, nothing more."

Shepard puts up a silencing hand. "Whatever you say. I'm not here to talk about that. We need to plan a course for Tuchanka. Mordin needs some help with something.

Miranda tenses her jaw briefly. Mordin has been an invaluable asset. He is the reason that they even have a chance against the Collectors at all. But going to Tuchanka is a huge deviation from their course. "Can it wait, Shepard?"

Shepard frowns slightly. "Could Oriana wait?"

_Ah, good point. Damn it._ "Are you sure you should be handling it? Someone of your... disposition... coming up against the krogans. You will very likely cause a diplomatic incident."

Shepard scoffs lightly. "A Cerberus operative pretending to worry about diplomacy. That's cute. I'll have you know I happen to be personal friends with the leading krogan warlord. I might have to do a bit of head-butting and chest thumping while I'm down there, but it will be fine."

Miranda sits back in her seat. Shepard's body language is tense and guarded as she stands in the doorway. _Okay Miranda, it's time to put on your big girl pants and talk to her. You need to fix this. _"I think we need to talk, Shepard. This needs to be resolved before it starts affecting the mission."

Shepard shakes her head. "Don't worry Miranda, you rebuilt my hearing just fine. You've already told me it was a mistake - twice now, actually - a third time is kind of insulting."

Miranda swallows hard. _What is wrong with me?!_ "I don't know what this is. If it's stress or blowing off steam or - "

Shepard interrupts her quickly. "It's nothing. You're clearly confused, and normally I would love to help you out with that, but right now I've got more important things to do than be your little bi-curious experiment."

Miranda feels herself flush at the accusation. "Experiment? I've never treated you as if you were a - "

Shepard sighs loudly. "It's okay Miranda, it's actually more common than you may think. Sheltered women like you with intimacy problems and Daddy-issues, wondering if things would be easier if you were into girls. Trust me, they're not; you're just as likely to get hurt."

_That is not... You have no idea... How dare you! _"Is that what I am to you? Just some emotionally crippled woman?"

Shepard drops her gaze to the floor and shuffles her feet. "No," she says in a softer tone, "I don't think you want to know what you are to me."

Miranda crosses her arms over her breasts. If Shepard's intent is to bait her, she has succeeded. "Try me."

Shepard rolls her eyes and looks up at the ceiling. Her voice is full of defeat. "I think you are... exquisite. You're confident, smart, and strong. And there's this beautiful sadness about you, something that just makes me want to protect you and make you happy." Shepard looks back into Miranda's eyes and gives a small, embarrassed shrug. "Shit, I can't believe I said that out loud. I am... glad to have met you. I'm honored to have you as my XO, and my friend - if that's still what you consider me."

Miranda stands and swallows the lump in her throat. She slowly crosses the room, watching the way that Shepard shifts and fidgets as she approaches. She looks into Shepard's eyes. They are shining with clarity. Jane Shepard knows exactly who she is and what she wants, and Miranda is intoxicated by that certainty. She feels the battle begin between her head and her heart, but for once, they're not arguing, they're singing in harmony. _Kiss her. **Kiss her**._ There are no more questions.

She wraps her arms around Shepard's waist and pulls her in. Shepard startles but recovers quickly, wrapping her arms back around Miranda, embracing her tightly.

"This is a terrible time for emotional entanglement," Miranda mumbles into Shepard's shoulder.

Shepard laughs softly. "For women like us, is there ever a good time?"

Miranda exhales deeply, and her lips meet Shepard's in a deep kiss. The warmth, the softness, the emotion behind it. It's...

_Perfect._


	5. Attainment

_A/N: Disclaimer: This chapter contains a girl on girl sex scene. If you are offended by such things (then I'm honestly not sure why you read past the first page), I highly recommend you skip this part._

_As usual, thank you for the favourites and follows, and especially to the people that took the time to review or private message._

___Your feedback is very much appreciated._

* * *

**5**

**ATTAINMENT**

Miranda's dark blue eyes scan the images on her terminal carefully, taking in every detail. She is a born perfectionist, and being less than excellent at anything is unacceptable. She views the content with her scientifically inclined mind, using the photographic memory that she was genetically engineered with to sear the pictures into her brain. She will not fail, not at something that's so important to her.

The door to her office opens. 8am, like clockwork. Her favorite person steps through, looking lovely, as usual. The commander's dark hair is tucked behind her ears and her piercing green eyes crinkle as she beams at Miranda. The Cerberus officer feels like a lovesick teenager whenever she sees that smile.

"Good morning," Shepard says as she crosses the room and stands to the side of Miranda's desk. She delivers Miranda's coffee and bagel, putting them down on the surface in front of the terminal, as Miranda's lips meet hers in a quick kiss. Shepard is very open with her affection, something that Miranda isn't used to, but is growing more comfortable with as the days go by.

"Good morning, Shepard," Miranda says as she feels the butterflies start to flutter in her stomach. She's given herself permission to look at the commander more than usual in this past week, feeling like she's earned the right to gaze openly.

Shepard moves her lithe body back to the other side of the desk and takes a seat, folding one long leg over the other. "I've got to sort out some shit for Kasumi this morning while we're in this system, but do you think we could meet up for dinner tonight?"

Miranda freezes. She runs through the excuses in her mind, coming back with a blank. She's already used a headache twice this week, and Shepard had definitely not believed her the second time. The commander is watching her in anticipation of her answer, and Miranda can think of nothing original, so she falls back on old faithful. "I have a lot of work to catch up on Shepard, maybe some other time."

Shepard narrows her eyes in suspicion. "You're avoiding me," she says. Her tone is not unkind, but she has made it clear that it is a statement, not a question.

Miranda feels her eyes widen. "I am not. I just have a lot of loose ends to tie up for the Illusive Man." Shepard's instincts are just as good as Miranda's, and there's something about the intensity behind her stare that makes Miranda unable to lie convincingly to her.

Shepard inhales sharply and sits forward. "Bullshit," she says simply. Miranda feels herself blanch, as Shepard continues. "You can't seriously expect me to believe that you don't have half an hour to spare for dinner?"

Miranda squirms in her chair. The truth is embarrassing. Shepard has been kind and patient with her, but she is obviously very experienced. Now is not the time to have _that_ conversation. Miranda's eyes drift unconsciously to her terminal screen, and her face flashes with guilt.

"What are you reading?" Shepard asks, grabbing the screen and trying to turn it towards herself.

Miranda snatches it back, throwing all her body weight into keeping it facing her. "This is confidential Cerberus information Shepard, I can't let you see it."

Shepard's face tenses with determination. "For a high ranking terrorist agent, you're a pretty crappy liar, Lawson. Just show me."

Miranda struggles somewhat fruitlessly against the soldier's brute strength. Her brain throws desperate suggestions at her. _No! Don't let her win! Pull her hair, throw a singularity, reave her if you have to! Just do not let her see what you're looking at!_

Shepard frowns and gives the terminal a sharp yank, pulling the screen away from Miranda and leaving the XO sprawled across the desk.

"Don't," Miranda pleads one last time, as Shepard's eyes glaze over the screen.

Shepard's face changes from the stern determination it had displayed a moment earlier. "Miranda…" Shepard says softly, turning her gaze towards her counterpart, "Is there something you'd like to ask me about?"

_I. Want. To. Die!_

"No," Miranda says slowly, formulating her response in her mind, "I just wanted to do some independent research."

Shepard bites her lower lip and gives Miranda an understanding smile, turning the terminal screen back to its original position. "You don't need to look up porn, Miranda, we can talk about this like grown ups."

_That's easy for you to say, you've been with dozens of women, _Miranda thinks to herself. "I know. I just didn't want it to be necessary."

Shepard leans back in her seat and purses her lips. "Well, watching _that_ won't help you. Those girls are faking it."

_Of course they are. This is made to be a male's fantasy, not an education manual. You should know better, Lawson! _Miranda frowns at the screen. "How can you tell?"

Shepard suppresses a smile and shrugs her shoulders. "Woman's intuition."

Miranda rolls her eyes, mentally erasing the datapad full of notes that she's taken. Shepard reaches her hand across the desk and tickles Miranda's palm with her fingertips. "This is why you've been 'busy' or had 'a headache' all week? You're avoiding me because you think that's what I'm after?"

Miranda nods her head and avoids Shepard's eyes. Miranda Lawson is completely comfortable in her own body, confident in her ability to pleasure a man, but being with a woman is so… new. The fact that it's Shepard, the only person she's liked more than herself in a very long time, just brings a whole new level of anxiety to it.

Shepard squeezes her hand. "Well, I was actually just hoping to have some time with you. Sex isn't mandatory. We'll get to that whenever you're ready." Miranda gives the commander a grateful smile, and Shepard continues. "Don't be nervous. I haven't test driven this new body yet, so I have no idea what I'm doing either. We might both be terrible. I mean, I highly doubt it - two perfectly engineered super babes together just can't go wrong - but it's good to keep an open mind to all the possibilities."

Miranda laughs quietly. There's just something about Shepard. She makes her anxious and comfortable, both at the same time. _We do need some proper time together. _Miranda tells herself._ Something tells me that it takes more than a morning coffee and an occasional mission debrief to sustain a relationship._ "I can probably finish these up and be in your cabin by 8pm?"

Shepard nods enthusiastically and smiles. "Sounds good. I'll pick up some sushi from the Citadel on my way back from Bekenstein, and I'll get a vid recommendation from Joker."

Miranda frowns at the last part of the sentence. _Famously bad idea._ Shepard gives the XO's hand one last quick squeeze, before standing up and exiting the cabin.  
Miranda takes another sideways glance at the vid playing on mute on her terminal, before exiting out of it.

_You are Miranda Lawson. You are intelligent, attractive and a quick learner. You will have sex with Jane Shepard, and you will be good at it! _

* * *

"Vid-screen off!" Shepard commands, her voice laced with an uncharacteristic panic as the display flicks to black. She sits with her hands gripping her thighs, her face flushed with embarrassment, her eyes wide with horror. She sits back against her plush black and white couch and bites her lower lip. "That was… umm… hmm…" The words fail her completely, and she drums her fingers on her knees. "Remind me never to ask Joker for a vid recommendation again."

Miranda suppresses a laugh as she looks at her flustered commander. _I knew that was a bad idea_. "The Flight-Lieutenant certainly has exotic taste. So... were those girls faking it?"

Shepard drops her head into her hands. "Oh God this is embarrassing."

Miranda decides to repay Shepard back for this morning's kindness, and she puts a reassuring hand on the commander's shoulder. "It's okay, Shepard. Everybody has made the mistake of asking Joker for advice. Or, so I've heard. I've certainly never been that foolish." _  
_

Shepard rolls her head back and and slaps her forehead. "Now I get what he meant when I was leaving the cockpit!_ 'Have fun petting kitty.'_ I thought he was talking about my hamster."

_God she's dense at times. Even I get that one!_ Miranda can't contain it, she snorts into her hand and laughs at Shepard's misfortune. Shepard shakes her head and chuckles along, putting her hand on Miranda's knee.

"Well, the sushi was warm and I ended up putting on an alien pornography, but apart from that, I enjoyed tonight. Thank you for coming, Miranda."

Miranda puts her hand on top of Shepard's and links their fingers. "This was… nice," she says sincerely. As far as disaster dates go, she has enjoyed this one. "And fairly normal - for people like us, I mean. Thank you for dragging me away from my work."

"You're welcome," Shepard says as she stands up and starts to lead Miranda to the door, "I am more than happy to help you practice being normal anytime you'd like."

Miranda leans in and gives Shepard a chaste kiss on the lips. Shepard smiles and flexes her feet, raising her height so that she can kiss Miranda's forehead. "Can I walk you back to your cabin?"

Miranda shakes her head. Shepard is endearingly old fashioned. In a pistol whipping, space faring, resurrected from the dead via cutting edge technology, sort of way. "No, it's okay Shepard, I can manage to go down two floors in a secured elevator unsupervised."

Shepard shrugs her lean shoulders and takes a step back. "Well, let it never be said that gallantry is dead. Goodnight, Miranda."

"Goodnight Shepard," Miranda says as the door hisses open and she steps through.

She stands in the corridor between Shepard's cabin and the elevator. She paces back and forth several times. The images from the shortly lived vid shoot through her brain. She could smell Shepard's shampoo on her hair, and feel the body heat rising from beside her. It had felt good to be in her presence. Her mind flashes back to the night in her cabin last week. How satisfying Shepard's body weight had felt as it rested briefly on top of her, as Shepard's supple lips had worked their magic. Miranda wants more. _I should've brought wine… **No, you're Miranda Lawson, you were engineered for greatness. You don't need liquid courage.**_

She turns back and opens the door to the captain's cabin, and finds Shepard in the middle of feeding her fish. "Oh, hey Miranda. Did you leave something behind?"

"Yes," Miranda says as she confidently marches up to Shepard and kisses her on the lips.

Shepard's eyes bulge slightly in surprise but she kisses back with enthusiasm. Miranda springs off with her feet and wraps her legs around Shepard's waist. The commander catches her with strong arms and takes her weight easily, stepping backwards. Shepard clumsily makes her way down the three steps that lead to her bed and spins around. She drops to her knees on the mattress and lays Miranda down on the bed, breaking their lip lock.

"Are you sure?" she whispers as she kisses the Cerberus officer's neck.

"Don't second guess me, Shepard," Miranda says sternly.

Shepard laughs quietly. "Yes ma'am."

Shepard lays between her legs, bracing her weight between her hands, knees and Miranda's hips, as she kisses the XO deeply. Shepard lifts her body and creates a few inches of space between the two women's torsos, allowing her room to slide a hand up to Miranda's chest and start undoing the zip. Miranda shifts her body to accommodate Shepard's movements, allowing the commander to slowly peel her uniform off, leaving her bodysuit, belt, boots and underwear in a messy pile at the foot of the bed.

"That was the hardest bathing suit I've ever had to pull off," Shepard says with a cheeky smile as she runs her hands over Miranda's hips and up the curve of her waist.

Miranda gives Shepard's neck a quick pinch, eliciting a yelp of surprise from the commander. Miranda moves to a sitting position and relieves Shepard of her tee-shirt, struggling only momentarily with the hook of her bra. She quickly undoes the fly of the soldier's pants, yanking them down to her knees impatiently and then the rest of the way down her calves, and finally off her feet.

The women both take a moment to admire each other's forms. They are so different, but remarkably similar, a sign of their shared genetic tampering. Miranda's body has been built for sin, while Shepard's body has been built for battle. Miranda's breasts are larger than Shepard's, but both pairs are equally perfect in their shape, proportions and perkiness. Their bodies have the same smooth skin, clear of all faults and unnecessary body hair.

Miranda has had lust filled eyes upon her firgure many times, but Shepard's feel different. They are undoubtedly filled with desire, but there's something more that's underlying the soldier's gaze; an affection and appreciation that Miranda has never experienced before.

"Miranda… your body is just…" Shepard purses her lips, unable to find the right words.

"Perfect?" Miranda adds helpfully.

Shepard laughs quietly. "And you're _so_ modest!" she teases.

Shepard guides Miranda back down onto the bed and uses her lips to caress her lover's mouth passionately, as their tongues touch and play. Shepard breaks the kiss and uses light finger strokes on Miranda's skin, starting at the base of the jaw and moving down from there. The soft pads of her fingers set Miranda's skin ablaze under their tender touches. Shepard looks at Miranda's body with amazement as her hands and lips worship every part of it.

By the time Shepard's digits find their target, Miranda is writhing with anticipation. She gasps loudly and jolts as if she's been hit by 1,000 volts of electricity as the commander's fingers begin lightly stroking her sensitive bundle of nerves. Shepard hovers above her and kisses her lips, while her skilled hand begins its ministrations. Miranda runs her hand down Shepard's body and finds the haven between Shepard's thighs. The commander's chest heaves responsively as Miranda's digits return their own gentle motions, in sync with the soldier's movements. The fingers stroke and slide, changing directions and pace until they each find the right rhythm. Shepard's mouth moves towards Miranda's delicate neck and chest, and the contact sends heat radiating from Miranda's core up into her abdomen. Her mind is totally blank as she loses herself completely in the sensation of intimate touch, both giving and receiving simultaneously. The crew, the reports, the Collectors - none of it matters right now as she concentrates on what is being done to her body.

Miranda feels her pleasure building and beginning to peak. As she listens to the commander's surprisingly girlish moans getting louder and more frequent, she knows that Shepard isn't far off either. Miranda lifts her head and locks eyes with Shepard; blue on green. That's all it takes to send them both careening over the edge. They kiss deeply to quieten each other's cries as they both arch their backs and buck their hips. Shepard bites Miranda's bottom lip in passion, and Miranda drags the fingernails of her spare hand across Shepard's shoulder. They each give a few involuntary shudders as they both come crashing down from the wave.

Shepard breaks the kiss and gives a throaty laugh. "Holy shit, I needed that." She lays down, resting her weight on Miranda's stomach and her head on Miranda's chest. "Okay, you can get out now."

Miranda laughs and gives her a smack on the bicep. "Ass."

Shepard holds her tightly and kisses the dip between Miranda's breasts. "Are you sure you've never been with a woman before? That was… not a rookie performance."

Miranda feels a swell of pride. "I'm a very quick learner, Shepard."

"Yeah, yeah," Shepard says with a quiet chuckle. "Well, in any case, I'm glad we got the first one out of the way quickly. That means I get to take my time with the next one." She props herself up and starts kissing her way down Miranda's chest and stomach.

_Does she mean - ?_

"The _first_ one?" Miranda asks, watching Shepard's movements with a slight look of confusion on her face.

Shepard runs her tongue from Miranda's belly button to her groin, looking up at her lover with something resembling amusement. "You're kidding me? Don't tell me you've never… Multiples?"

_Right, yes she does mean –_

Miranda shakes her head. She's heard of the phenomenon, but always assumed it was just a myth, and frankly, never had the time to devote to finding out the truth.

"Hmm… I expected a bit bitter from Jacob..." Shepard says thoughtfully. "Oh well."

The soldier's head disappears between Miranda's thighs and she feels a soft pair of lips make contact with her womanly warmth.

_Well, this is pointless…_ "Shepard, I don't think I'm going to be able to - Oh. Ohhh God."_ I stand corrected._

Miranda arches her back and lets out a small cry. Shepard's moist tongue darts out of her mouth, sending trills of pleasure right up Miranda's spine and into every nerve in her body. Shepard slides her hands underneath Miranda's hips and lifts her lower body off the bed slightly, letting Miranda's thighs rest on the commander's upper arms. The angle sends the blood rushing to Miranda's lust-riddled head, heightening every sensation. Shepard works her mouth expertly; kissing, licking, and gently sucking. She teases the XO with the speed of her movements, bringing her close to the edge and leaving her hanging there, looking up at her wickedly. Miranda threads her fingers through Shepard's hair, encouraging the commander with her loud moans and grinding hips. By the time Miranda's thighs clench down and she feels her release, she calls out so loudly that she's sure to have woken up half the ship.

Shepard lowers Miranda's hips back onto the bed and rests her head on Miranda's inner thigh, looking up the Cerberus operative. "Wow, Miss Lawson you are a real screamer. Who would've guessed?!"

Miranda affectionately touches the soldier's cheek as she struggles to catch her burning breath. "I think you need to lie down and relax, Commander," she says seductively.

Shepard furrows her eyebrows in thought for a moment. "Soon. You have a very sensitive body, and I'm enjoying playing with it. I think I can at least get one more out of you."

"Oh God," Miranda moans as Shepard throws the XO's legs over her shoulders and, again, does what Shepard does best.

* * *

Miranda wakes up to the smell of coffee and pancakes. Her eyes open slowly, and she startles to a sitting position as she takes in her foreign surroundings.

"Ah, my Sleeping Beauty is awake!" Shepard calls from her seat on the couch.

Miranda's dazed stare falls upon the commander, as she realizes what she's let happen. "Damn it Shepard, I didn't mean to stay the night." She wraps the sheet around herself and stands up, before Shepard makes a sudden movement from the couch and tackles her back onto the bed again.

Miranda gets the breath knocked out of her briefly by the heavier body, before turning towards the commander in seriousness. "Shepard, this is completely inappropriate. Do you want the entire crew to know?"

Shepard kisses her lips and Miranda feels her resistance temporarily wane, as the memories of last night's gratification come flooding back to her. Shepard pulls away and runs a hand through Miranda's raven colored hair. "I knew you'd be paranoid about that. I've already been downstairs. Mess Sergeant Gardner made us breakfast, and I explained to him, very loudly, that we were in the middle of an important breakfast meeting. Nobody knows that you slept the night."

Miranda relaxes back on the bed, and cranes her neck to look over at their food. It does smell good. "You still shouldn't have let me sleep here," she says quietly, all feelings of panic and annoyance disappearing quickly.

Shepard gives her a lazy smile and nuzzles her head into her neck. The smooth skin and warm breath give Miranda goosebumps. "You came four times last night, I wasn't going to make you walk anywhere," Shepard whispers in her ear.

Miranda feels a pang of arousal and flushes slightly. _Last night had been... incredible_. "You talk like that just to embarrass me."

Shepard kisses her cheek and pulls her up by the hand to a sitting position. "Of course I do. Have you seen how fucking beautiful you are when you blush?"

Miranda stands up and shuffles over to the couch with the sheet still wrapped tightly around her. Shepard follows her and serves her up a plate of pancakes. Miranda reaches for her coffee and takes a long sip. It's lukewarm. She looks at the time display on the wall. 8:27. This was a late start for the two women in charge of running the Normandy_._

"How did you sleep?" Shepard asks conversationally as she piles her plate full of pancakes and maple syrup.

Miranda doesn't even flinch at the commander's meal size anymore. She has now experienced first hand what tremendous shape the woman is in. "Surprisingly well. What about you?"

Shepard swallows a mouthful and smiles. "That was the best sleep I've had since… since I woke up from the big sleep. You really tired me out."

Miranda rolls her eyes and leans back in her seat. "Do you have plans to stop taunting me anytime soon?"

Shepard inclines her head and pretends to think about it. "Hmm… I might consider it. As long as we can spend another night together doing that."

Miranda feels her heart flutter slightly at the memory of the skin on skin contact, of Shepard's tongue making her cry out, of her own body doing things it had never done before. She meets Shepard's gaze. "I think I can manage that. Be here at 8?"

Shepard leans back and smiles. "8pm it is."


	6. Education

_A/N: Another adult content warning! _

* * *

**6**

**EDUCATION**

_"Mrraander bludeh Lawsn!"_

Miranda looks up from her terminal as her ears are assaulted by the crude sound wave. "Good God Shepard, what the hell was that?"

Shepard grins from ear to ear as she places her XO's coffee down on the desk. "It was your accent, obviously."

Miranda rolls her eyes and pushes back from her terminal. "That was _not_ my accent, Shepard, that was a crime against auditory receptors everywhere."

Shepard slumps down in the seat opposite the Cerberus operative. "Damn it. I've been practicing that all night."

Miranda appraises her commander from across the table. "Only _you_ would spend a night in the infirmary finding new ways to tease me."

Shepard chuckles dryly and rubs her jaw thoughtfully. "The most unnecessary night in the infirmary _ever_. You worry too much."

Miranda's irritated gaze is drawn to the new scar on Shepard's shoulder. The injury itself has not been what's annoyed Miranda, but seeing how damn proud Shepard is of it has greatly vexed her. The asari justicar had better turn out to be worth it; it was her fault, after all, that Miranda's masterpiece was now permanently marred by a battle with Eclipse mercs.

"You got shot, Shepard. Whatever else you are to me, you're still Cerberus' greatest asset. I can't risk losing you to an infection. Although, for the record, I would have liked to have seen you last night."

Shepard inclines an eyebrow and smiles. "Well, I'll let you make it up to me. Teach me your accent, and I'll forgive you for sidelining me."

"I wouldn't even know where to begin, Shepard, that was bloody awful." Shepard opens her eyes wide and pouts with her lower lip. Miranda lets out an exasperated sigh and relents. "Ugh, fine. You're doing it all wrong. You need to extend the vowels and soften the Rs."

"_Meh-ran-duh bluh-dee Lor-son_"

Miranda cringes and laughs softly. "I don't think my ear drums were perforated that time, so I suppose that can be considered an improvement."

Shepard claps her hands onto her knees. "Well, I'll just have to keep practicing then, _lassy_."

Miranda leans back in her seat, stretching out her lower back. "Please don't. And that one's Scottish, anyway." She drums her fingers together. "Are you doing much today? We haven't had a lot of time together lately, and I'm finally caught up with my reports - until your next killing spree, that is."

Shepard's eyes light up with interest. "Oh really? Well, I was just going to the shuttle bay to work out, but if you have something else in mind…?"

Miranda stands up at her desk. "I'll come with you. Just give me a chance to change my clothes. I want to oversee this regimen to make sure you don't do any further damage to your shoulder."

"Oh really?" Shepard says with mock defiance. "And if I don't behave do I get a _smacked bottom?"_

Miranda crosses the room and yanks open a draw, pulling out a pair of yoga pants and a tank top. She unzips her uniform and throws Shepard a harrowing look. "Maybe. But that one was British. Just give it up, Shepard. You're crap at accents."

"_Aye, me hearty_," Shepard says as she puts her feet together and gives a salute.

"Shepard, that's pirate. You're speaking pirate right now."

"Whatever."

* * *

"Aim for my mid-chest. Push through with the hip and thigh. Land the blow with your shin and upper foot, not your toes." Shepard braces herself for the impact that reverberates through the pad and into her hands, forearms, elbows, shoulders, and finally her chest, before dissipating into her strong core. "Holy shit Lawson! You _are_ a quick learner!"

Miranda responds with a grunt as she does another roundhouse kick, landing it squarely on the pad being held by the commander.

"I should've guessed you had strong legs, coz you know… _booty_." Shepard gives her a devious grin. Miranda answers with an even harder kick landing in the middle of the pad. Shepard takes a step back to avoid from falling over. "Wow! That's my girl!"

Miranda does a feint and Shepard tenses her entire body to absorb the impact, but Miranda goes low, looping her foot around Shepard's ankle and pulling it sideways, bringing the commander crashing down. Shepard lands on her back with a loud smack, and immediately starts howling in pain.

Miranda hovers above her, worry on her features. "I'm sorry Shepard, I was just trying to shut you up. Where does it hurt?"

"Here," Shepard says, gesturing to her freshly healed shoulder. Miranda gets down lower and tries to inspect the soldier, when a strong arm grabs her around the waist and throws her to the ground. She lands on her back, dazed for a split second, before Shepard rolls on top of her, grinning like a Cheshire Cat. "You wanna play dirty, Lawson? You're dealing with the master."

"You'll pay for that," Miranda says as she struggles against the legs that are straddling her and the hands that are pinning her down.

"Mmm… that sounds like something I might enjoy," Shepard says with a predatory smirk as she brings her face down to the Cerberus officer's cleavage. Miranda looks up and makes her eyes widen, giving Shepard a pleading look. Shepard sighs and releases her grip on Miranda's wrists. "I've always been a sucker for a pretty face."

Shepard rolls off and takes a seat on the ground. Miranda pushes herself up and sits up next to Shepard, both of them breathing hard, not just from their brief wrestle, but from their two hour long kickboxing session. Shepard is a good teacher, and Miranda is a good pupil, although that had already been established a few weeks ago in the captain's cabin.

Shepard gives her a nudge with her elbow. "I won."

Miranda leans in suddenly and kisses Shepard on the mouth. They're both salty and sweaty, and their mouths are hot. Shepard melts into the kiss, giving no resistance when the XO pushes her down on the ground. Miranda braces herself with one hand, and uses her free hand to pull Shepard's shorts down. Shepard moans quietly as Miranda breaks the kiss and rips the shorts away from the ends of the soldier's feet. The commander lays down, panting and smiling with anticipation. Lawson leans over and nibbles Shepard's earlobe. Just before Shepard's hands begin roaming, Miranda whispers in her ear, "No, I won."

She gets up quickly and makes a run for the elevator, Shepard's shorts tucked in her hand. Shepard lays sprawled out in bewilderment for a moment, before flipping to her feet and giving chase. Miranda makes it to the elevator and throws a biotic barrier across the outer door before Shepard gets there.

"Oh, you are in so much trouble!" Shepard says as she beats on the blue forcefield.

Miranda smirks. "It's a good thing someone rebuilt you with a nice pair of legs, Commander. I'm sure the crew will enjoy the view." She winks as the door closes, leaving Shepard stranded in her tank top and underwear.

* * *

Miranda smothers her smirk as Shepard makes her way through the galley with a fresh pair of shorts on, doing a slow clap. "Ha ha ha Lawson, very funny."

"Just a dose of your own medicine, Shepard. You don't appear to be any worse for wear." Shepard frowns and gives Miranda a bump on her way through to the fridge. "Oh, fix me something while you're back there," Miranda says, watching as the head and shoulders disappear, leaving a side view of a flat stomach and statuesque pair of legs.

Shepard splutters dramatically. "Yeah right. After you viciously assaulted me and left me to do a nudie run on my own ship? No I think _you're _the one cooking us lunch today!"

Miranda folds her arms over her chest. "There are so many things wrong with that statement, I don't even know where to begin. You're just being a sore loser. Plus, I can't cook."

Shepard scoffs, and comes out of the fridge with her hands full of ingredients. "Good excuse. Well, stick around, you might learn something."

She pulls out a big silver bowl and oven dish. Miranda eyes the ingredients off. Cooking chocolate, eggs, cream, milk and butter. Shepard ducks into the pantry and gets some flour and brown sugar out.

"This looks healthy…" Miranda says sarcastically.

Shepard smiles at her. "What are you worried about? That was probably the best workout you've done in your entire life. You've lost at least an inch off your ass."

Miranda pushes Shepard backwards into the bench, before Shepard grabs her quickly and pulls her in, catching her by surprise with a kiss. Miranda pulls back immediately. "Not in the middle of the mess hall, Shepard."

Shepard backs away and sighs. "You are _such_ a pussy. We don't answer to any of these people. Who cares if they know?"

Miranda turns back towards the bench full of ingredients. She has her reasons. Well, one reason, actually. The Illusive Man, and the way he would exploit the situation if he were to find out. "It just isn't professional," she answers crisply.

Shepard leans in and whispers closely to Miranda's ear, and her skin prickles as Shepard's breath lands on her neck. "What I was doing under your desk last Tuesday during your meeting with Hadley wasn't professional. I didn't hear you complaining about that."

Miranda blushes and feels a wave of arousal at the memory. She shoos Shepard away. "Just… show me this damn recipe, alright? Apparently I have an inch to regain on my greatest asset."

"Mmm that you do," Shepard says with a sleazy laugh as she looks Miranda up and down. _Ugh, walked right into that one_…

Shepard begins to move in some sort of frenzied, fast forward fashion, melting butter while simultaneously whisking eggs and sifting flour. She mumbles directions as she goes, and Miranda smiles and nods, keeping up with what she can, but mostly just enjoying the show. Shepard turns back to her and holds out a chocolate covered finger, which she brings up to Miranda's lips. Miranda does a quick scan of the mess hall before opening her mouth and accepting the delectable digit, sucking all the chocolate mixture off. Shepard smiles and removes her finger, before quickly darting in and slipping her tongue between Miranda's lips.

"Mmm... delicious," Shepard says with a wink as she pulls away from her shocked XO.

"I don't even know what you're making," Miranda says as she watches Shepard pour the mixture into the oven-proof dish.

"It's an oldie, but a goodie. It's called chocolate soufflé. It's meant to be romantic."

Miranda is entranced by the thick chocolate liquid pouring into the dish. "I've never heard of it."

Shepard turns to her and laughs. "What? Soufflé, or romance?"

Miranda drops her gaze slightly in embarrassment. Shepard has somehow deduced that Miranda is not particularly experienced with relationships. "I meant the soufflé. I've heard of the other one."

Shepard smiles and touches her cheek tenderly. "Well, by the time I'm done with you, you will have first hand experience with both."

Miranda leans in closely and brings her lips an inch away from Shepard's. "When you're done with me, hmm?"

"You know what I mean," Shepard answers quickly, as she dips a finger into her creation again, this time smearing it along Miranda's neck. "Oh dear, how clumsy of me. I'd better get that for you." She moves her mouth along the sensitive skin, using her lips and tongue to capture all the mess.

Miranda gives an involuntary shudder at the sensation, knowing she should stop Shepard from this public display, but enjoying it too much. Shepard takes encouragement and gets more of the chocolate on her finger, this time drawing a straight line down from Miranda's neck to her cleavage. She pushes Miranda against the bench and puts both hands on her waist while sucking the chocolate from her chest.

Miranda gives a small whimper of desire. "My cabin is just a few feet away," she says in a low voice.

Shepard runs her hands from Miranda's waist to her lower back, pulling her in close. "Are you propositioning me, Miss Lawson?" she purrs in Miranda's ear. Miranda gasps quietly, completely at Shepard's mercy.

"Yeah Shep, you'd better get going, some of us actually want to eat in here," Kasumi says as she uncloaks herself.

Shepard jumps away so fast that she bangs her hip loudly on the opposite bench, cursing under her breath and taking the weight off the affected leg. "Damn it Kasumi, that is not cool!" she scolds the master thief.

Kasumi smiles and shrugs. "You're the one trying to get lucky in the middle of the kitchen, Sheppy, not me."

Shepard blushes slightly and throws a concerned look in Miranda's direction, who is too mortified to speak. "Uh… Yeah… About that. Can we keep this between us? We're not really ready for this to be Normandy-wide gossip. Well, Miranda isn't, I should say. I personally couldn't give a fuck what any of you think. No offense."

_Charming, as usual, Shepard..._

Kasumi breaks out in a musical little laugh. "Of course. Although I hope you'll remember this, if ever I need a favor…"

Shepard regains both her feet and slots her soufflé into the oven. "Oh great, a galactic fugitive has blackmail material on me. This can't go wrong."

She takes Miranda's hand in hers and leads her towards the XO's cabin. "Is this a good idea?" Miranda hisses in Shepard's ear.

Shepard looks in Kasumi's direction and shrugs her shoulders. "It's not going to make any difference now."

"Have fun you two!" Kasumi calls after them.

* * *

The water pours down as Shepard writhes under Miranda's fingertips. "Yes, yes, a little bit to the left, up a bit, oh god yes, that's the spot! A bit harder, a bit harder, yes, yes, YES!"

Miranda withdraws her hand and frowns. "Is it your goal to sound like you're in the middle of an orgasm?"

Shepard turns around and gives a lazy smile. "Well, I may as well be. There is nothing better than having an itchy back scratched."

Miranda shakes her head. "Any excuse to make me blush."

Shepard laughs and wets her hair under the stream of water. "That one was for Kasumi's benefit, actually. If someone's going to have dirt on me, I may as well make it worth my while."

Miranda blanches at the thought. "Do you really think she'll keep it to herself?"

Shepard nods her head confidently. "Yeah, Kasumi's pretty cool. And if she doesn't, then we deal with it. There are worse things we could do on a stealth warship than share a bed occasionally."

"Occasionally?" Miranda asks with a smirk as pulls the loofah down from the shelf.

Shepard smiles and pulls Miranda in close. Their nipples brush against each other, both hard despite the heat of the shower. "Well, figuratively speaking," she says in a husky voice, planting a teasing kiss on Miranda's neck.

Shepard takes the loofah out of Miranda's hand and lathers it up with soap, before spinning Miranda around so that she's facing the tiled wall. The commander starts with small circles from Miranda's shoulder blades and works her way down. Miranda hisses with pain and flinches slightly when Shepard applies pressure to her lower back.

"What was that?" Shepard asks as she stops her ministrations and looks at the area for any sign of injury.

"Just a bit tender from the kickboxing, I'll be fine," Miranda says as she feels a measure of relief from the hot water running over the tired muscles.

"Oh, you are going to regret saying that!" Shepard says as she turns the shower off and pulls Miranda out by the hand. She hurriedly wraps a towel around herself and hands one to Miranda. "You're going to teach me how to give you a massage!"

_This could be terrible!_ Miranda hesitates. "I'm not a masseuse, Shepard, and neither are you."

Shepard dismisses her as she leads her to the bed. Miranda lies down on her stomach, and lets Shepard pull the towel down to just below her waist.

Miranda sighs as she feels Shepard's hands upon her skin. "Very well. It's easiest if you start at the trapezius, that's the big muscle between my spine and shoulder blade. Oh yes, there… mmm… that's very good."

Miranda feels her resistance to the idea liquefy as Shepard's strong hands knead the muscles with the perfect amount of pressure. _She really is incredible with her hands_...

"Okay, move down to the latissimus dorsi, that's the big one that starts just under my shoulder blade, and ends an inch or two above my hip. Oh, yes, right there."

Miranda moans softly as she feels the tension of the stretched muscles starts to be worked out by Shepard's skilled touch.

Shepard's hands drop to the ridges of Miranda's pelvis. Miranda feels herself tense up as the pain starts to shoot through. "Ah, that's the obliques. They are feeling quite tight after that kickboxing. Be gentle."

Shepard kneads the muscles with her thumbs, digging softly and then slowly going deeper as she feels the muscles loosen. Miranda's moans get louder. She hasn't taken herself to get a massage for years, and since she's been assigned to the Normandy, she's been under more physical strain than ever - and not just on the battlefield.

Shepard lowers her hands again, and Miranda clears her throat. "That is the gluteus maximus, Shepard, as I'm sure you're aware."

She hears Shepard laugh softly behind her as she squeezes the thick flesh between her fingers. Miranda rolls her body over until she's on her back, looking up at Shepard. "You didn't really need a lesson in massage, did you?" she asks suspiciously.

Shepard bursts into laughter. "No. I know how to give massages. I just wanted an excuse to touch you."

Miranda puts a hand on the back of Shepard's neck, encouraging the commander's mouth down to meet her lips. "You don't need an excuse," she whispers as their mouths collide.

Shepard moves quickly as she liberates Miranda of the tyranny of being covered by a towel. "Ready for your happy ending, Miss Lawson?" she asks, her eyes smoldering. Miranda giggles and pulls Shepard in again for another deep kiss. Shepard pulls back and removes her own towel. "Can I try something?" she asks.

Miranda nods hesitantly, having only just mastered a handful of new tricks recently.

Shepard smiles and sits up. "I think you'll like this. Give me your legs."

Miranda lets them both go limp as Shepard manipulates them, sliding one of Miranda's thighs under her own leg, while placing Miranda's other thigh over the top of hers. Miranda looks at the knot that their bodies have made with confusion, although getting the faintest of recollections from her brief porn research. Shepard leans in and kisses the XO, before carefully placing their body cores together.

"Oh!" Miranda cries in surprise at the contact. Shepard gives her a quick look, as if asking for permission to continue. Miranda nods quickly, almost jumping out of her skin at the new sensations running through her nerve endings. Shepard smiles and starts grinding her hips. Miranda lies back in a haze, lips parted and eyes half lidded in pleasure. She watches Shepard's perfectly taut abdomen roll rhythmically like the waves of a calm ocean, wondering how it is even possible that this graceful creature can't dance vertically.

Miranda puts her hands on Shepard's hips and begins to make small gyrations with her own pelvis. Shepard moans softly as she feels her lover start moving beneath her, increasing the amount of friction between their warm, wet womanhoods. Shepard switches between kissing Miranda's mouth, and running her tongue along the XO's neck. Miranda thinks she's learned about enough, always having been a woman who was happy to contribute her fair share. She uses her hand placement to tip Shepard, hearing a gasp of surprise as she flips the commander over and switches their positions.

Shepard's eyes widen with delight as she feasts on the sight of the voluptuous Cerberus officer rocking rhythmically on top of her. Miranda wonders why Shepard hasn't taught her this delicious sex act before now, but is so caught up in the physical decadence that she decides she doesn't care. Shepard runs her hands over Miranda's chest, capturing a pair of hardened nipples between her fingers, before gently kneading the large breasts. Miranda moans loudly at the sensation, as the pleasure between her legs begins to build up. Shepard's breathing has quickened and her eyes are glazed over with desire. Miranda picks up the pace of her swaying hips, watching the commander bite down on her bottom lip and arch her back in response. Shepard takes each of Miranda's thighs in her hands and rocks her back and forth quickly, bringing them both to their peak. The powerful climax hits them both concurrently, with Miranda leaning back and biting back her cries of pleasure, while Shepard pulls a pillow over her own face and screams herself hoarse into it.

After a few slow movements and jolting spasms, Miranda collapses on the bed beside Shepard, who throws the pillow across the room and gives the XO an exhausted grin. Shepard turns towards her lover and slinks an arm around her waist, resting her head contentedly on Miranda's shoulder.

"I really like you, Miranda," Shepard says quietly, planting a quick kiss on Miranda's upper arm.

Miranda smiles to herself as she looks up at the ceiling. "I'm quite fond of you too, Shepard."

Shepard laughs, the sound coming out decidedly raspier than usual after the pillow absorbed most of her voice. "Fond of me, hey? I promise, one day, I'm going to make you come so hard that that stick up your ass finally disappears."

Miranda is about to reply when the alarm starts sounding. EDI's voice comes out over the speakers. "Attention, attention. Ship-wide alert. There is a localized fire on Deck 3, Section 4, in the Galley. All available personal please assist."

Shepard jumps up and bolts towards the door. "Holy shit, my soufflé!"

"Shepard, clothes!" Miranda manages to choke out before the commander gets to the door.

Shepard looks down at herself. "Can I borrow a uniform? I've only got my sweaty work out gear."

Miranda nods and watches as Shepard quickly slides into one of her catsuits, laughing at the way that the backside and chest don't get quite filled out properly by the commander's less curvy form.

Shepard shoots a frown over her shoulder. "Oh shut up, bubble butt. Don't you dare get dressed. I'll be back in a minute to wipe that smile off your face. Or make it even wider. Probably the latter."

"Promises, promises, Shepard," Miranda says as she props herself up in the bed and watches as Shepard disappears into the haze of chocolatey smoke.


	7. Procrastinating

**7**

**PROCRASTINATING**

"I just want this one thing explained to me," Shepard says as she paces Miranda's office, "Not only did Cerberus fail to install these Normandy upgrades themselves, but the organisation with 'unlimited resources' can't even get me the resources I need? So we need to spend half a week in this butt-fuck-nowhere system, just mindlessly mining planets all day?"

Miranda can feel the frustration seething out of Shepard as she moves her body tensely, stalking around the room like a beast of prey.

She pushes away from her terminal. "Essentially, yes. It was a major oversight. Not mine, and unforgivable on the lead engineer's part. Unfortunately, thanks to Wilson's betrayal, the operative responsible is no longer alive to be held accountable."

"Lucky…" Shepard grumbles in reply. She takes a break from her pacing to look Miranda up and down. "You look beautiful today, by the way."

Miranda blushes slightly as Shepard returns to wearing down the flooring of the XO's cabin. "Try to look at the positives, Shepard. The crew are well overdue for their shore leave. This delay is an effective way to kill two birds with one stone."

Shepard pauses her pacing and shrugs frustratedly. "Shore leave? To do what? We're in the middle of nowhere!"

Miranda stands up from her desk and makes her way towards Shepard, who is now busy looking out the window at the planet below. The Cerberus officer moves up behind her lover and wraps her arms around her waist, eliciting a flinch of surprise from the commander.

"I'm sure we could think of a few things to do…" Miranda purrs as she nibbles Shepard's earlobe. She is hoping for a dramatic response, perhaps being picked up and dragged to the nearby bed, or maybe being pushed up against the window like Shepard did last week. But she is to be disappointed, as Shepard crosses her arms and gets a pensive look on her face, staring out the window determinedly.

"This is asari space we're in, isn't it?" the commander asks thoughtfully.

"Yes," Miranda's reply comes out stunted as she slowly moves her hands up Shepard's shirt, trying again to gain a favorable response.

"Good. I think there's a colony on the next planet. Nothing fancy, but I know exactly what we're going to do." She steps out of Miranda's grasp and crosses the room, taking a seat at the desk. Her eyes scan the screen sharply as she clicks away on the terminal, leaving the confused operative watching from across the room.

"And what is that?" Miranda asks impatiently as Shepard continues her extranet browsing, ignoring her XO's very presence.

Shepard stands up and crosses the room, giving Miranda's ass an affectionate squeeze on her way through to the door. "I was just messaging a few contacts. I have a plan for tomorrow. I'm going to date you."

* * *

"Where did you get bathing suits from at such short notice?" Miranda asks as she lays her head on Shepard's chest.

"I always like to be prepared," Shepard answers in a hushed tone, "Although, we didn't really need them. This place is empty. It's not too late to go naturist you know..."

Miranda gives her a quick slap on the stomach. The waves crash against the pebbly ground periodically, and the pink sun beats down on their skin, warming it pleasantly.

"I feel it must be said, Shepard, you fill out a set of bikinis remarkably well," Miranda says as she strokes her hand along Shepard's abdomen, feeling the muscles and contours under her fingertips.

"That's nice of you to say, Miss Lawson, but I'm pretty sure I look like a baby salarian compared to you."

"I do look good," Miranda concedes, impressed by Shepard's knowledge of her body that she has managed to buy the perfect sized bathing suit.

Shepard readjusts her position on the towel, and holds Miranda closer. "Good grief you're lucky you've got the goods to back up that confidence. Now why don't you climb on top of me and show me what you're working with."

"As if you don't already know," Miranda says with a roll of her eyes as she stands up. "Come on. I'm going for another swim. Do you care to join me?"

She offers her hand to Shepard, who takes it and springs to her feet. "Beat you there!" the soldier says as she sprints across the ground.

Shepard goes clumsily splashing into the waves as Miranda catches up and does a graceful dive into the bay. Her body cuts through the water easily as her powerful legs propel her forwards. She reappears above the surface a few feet away, and Shepard looks at her in amazement.

"You know how to swim?"

Miranda nods her head as the water comes streaming down her shoulders from her saturated hair. "Of course I do. I grew up on the beach. The only time I was allowed out of my father's compound and away from my studies was when I went for a swim."

"I didn't know that," Shepard says as she wades out to meet Miranda's depth. "What was it like where you grew up?"

"What, Sydney? It was beautiful, I suppose. It was an affluent city, culturally diverse, financially stable, and the weather was usually quite pleasant. I imagine if I had been raised by a normal family - or anybody other than my father, really - I would have been very happy there."

Shepard looks off towards the horizon, where the purple sky meets with the mirroring ocean. "I've always wondered what it would've been like, growing up on Earth."

Miranda takes her feet off the ground and lets her body float. The gravitational pull of this planet is far less than the artificial gravity on the Normandy, and she is absolutely weightless in the water. She already knows the answer to the question, but the rules of conversation demand that she asks it anyway.

"What about you? Where did you grow up?"

Shepard gives a small smirk. She knows that Miranda is asking out of politeness, rather than actual ignorance of the facts. "Me? I was raised by a tribe of thresher maws in the middle of a volcano, obviously. That's why I'm so tough."

Miranda splashes Shepard with water, and Shepard opens her mouth and catches it, swallowing it with a satisifed smile. The sea water on this planet tastes more like fruit juice, rather than like the salty water from the oceans of Earth.

Miranda looks at her seriously. "Okay, you caught me. I do know the details. But I imagine it would have been interesting, being raised in space by the most famous woman in Alliance history - well, before you came along, that is."

Shepard rubs her neck uncomfortably. "_Raised_ is probably giving her a bit too much credit. She kept me alive and tolerated my existence until I was old enough to ship off to the Alliance boarding school station. I saw my Mom for two weeks every year over Christmas break, but most of that time I was shuffled between support staff while she captained the ship. She made the rank of Admiral when I was 13, and after that she just didn't have the time for me, so I started spending Christmases with my best friend Elise and her family."

The commander's body language and tone change then, but her face remains unreadable. Miranda isn't quite sure what's coming over her. Sadness, maybe?

"Anyway, I joined up when I was 18 and got sent to Arcturus Station for training. I haven't seen my Mom since the memorial service on Torfan six years ago. That was when she told me that if she'd had a say in it, I would have been court-marshaled. We haven't spoken since."

Miranda looks at Shepard's face, and the pathos behind those green eyes is almost tangible. "I'm sorry Shepard. I didn't realise it was like that."

Shepard shakes her head. "It's okay, I'm not after pity. Hannah Shepard isn't mother material, but at least she didn't make the mistake of procreating twice. Don't worry, your claim to the galaxy's crappiest parent remains unrivalled."

Miranda looks at the commander for a moment, feeling a new connection form with the woman. "How did you turn out so normal?" she blurts out.

Shepard shrugs her shoulders and drops a bit lower into the water. "I think _normal_ is going a bit far. I don't know, I guess I just didn't let it define me. I doubt she counted on the great Fleet Admiral John Shepard dying on an exploration cruise when she was in her second trimester. I think having me had been all his idea; the start of his own private little battalion of soldiers. But then he was gone before I was even born, and she was stuck with this kid that she barely wanted. It must've sucked for her."

Miranda thinks on those words for a moment. "I suppose we both know what it's like to have the expectation of somebody else's dynasty resting on our shoulders."

Shepard smiles bitterly, watching the waves come to and fro. "I hadn't thought of it like that. I guess that's true."

Miranda reaches out and holds Shepard's hand under the water. "I think it's a good thing we found each other, Shepard."

Shepard's demeanor instantly shifts, and she turns and grins at Miranda. "Woah, slow down lady. This is only our first date."

Miranda splashes Shepard in the face again and is quickly tackled and overpowered by the soldier's strong body. Shepard stands and lifts Miranda up by the waist, pulling her in close and kissing her. Miranda can taste the sweet water on Shepard's insistent lips as they part her own.

Shepard lowers Miranda onto her feet and she feels her bikini top fall away. "What the hell?" the XO mutters as she tries to scoop it up in her hands.

She looks over at Shepard, whose own top is also missing. "What?" Shepard asks with a devious smile.

Miranda moves in closer. "I don't know how you managed that, but I'm not complaining."

"Good," Shepard says as she quickly unties the waist bows that are connecting Miranda's bikini bottoms together, "The water is nice, the sun is out, and there's nobody around to hear you scream." She stops and frowns to herself. "That didn't come out right. Scream in a totally consensual and non-murderous fashion, I meant."

Miranda feels a hand make it's way up her thigh and smiles. "You're so charming, Shepard. How could anybody resist?"

* * *

Shepard beams radiantly as the shuttle pulls up to the hangar. "Are you going to tell me what we're doing yet?" Miranda asks as she feels the engine stop humming.

Shepard gives her a secretive little smirk. "You'll see soon enough."

The commander throws the shuttle door open and steps out, taking Miranda's hand and helping her down the step. It's small gestures like this that are totally unnecessary, but surprisingly easy to get used to. Shepard wraps Miranda's hand in her own, and leads them quickly across the field of dirt before opening the huge door of the hangar.

The low setting sunlight filters in and Miranda takes in the sight. "Cars?" she asks in confusion as Shepard smiles at her.

"Cars!" Shepard says with a scoff, "This is a collection of top of the line, pristine, collector's pieces. Once upon a time, these were the best things on the road!"

Miranda walks up to a red one and runs her hand along the glossy metal finish. It has an ornament on the hood, some type of big cat, maybe a leopard or a tiger? It's hard to be sure. "So… what are we doing here?"

Shepard pulls out an enormous handful of control buttons, all connected together on a single silver chain. "I'm taking you for a drive. You pick the car, and I'll make it purr."

Miranda's eyes widen. "Shepard, no, this is a terrible idea. I've seen the reports from the original Normandy. Your old Mako was lucky to survive you. You're bad enough with the Hammerhead, and that has hover capabilities."

Shepard folds her arms over her chest. "Are you trying to say I'm a shit driver, Miranda?"

"Absolutely," Miranda answers without hesitation, "That's exactly what I'm saying."

Shepard's face and voice change, going into complete mockery mode. "Aww, is little M scared of getting her hair messed up by the big, bad car? Worried you'll break a nail, princess?"

"Mock me all you like, Shepard," Miranda says with a stiff tone, "I've only survived this long by being cautious, unlike _you, _who has already died once."

"Umm... ouch!" Shepard cries, clutching her hand to the left side of her chest. "Low blow, Lawson! Now you have to go along with this or I'll have hurt feelings for the rest of the day. Come on, stop being a wimp. They can only go 100 miles per hour, how much damage could I do at that speed?"

"Humans have died from skiing into trees too fast, Shepard," Miranda says, letting an edge of annoyance creep into her voice.

Shepard huffs and turns away. "You are ruining this for me! Just… pick a car!"

Miranda scans the room quickly, and flicks her wrist in the direction of the shiniest vehicle. "Fine. The silver one."

Shepard turns in its direction. "Ah, the BMW FF21. Year 2082. Full leather interior, automated driving capabilities and a forty speaker sound system. Flawlessly preserved. This was built in the year that the industry was making the switch from standard transmission to hover. They made this model in both versions."

Miranda raises an eyebrow at Shepard, and the commander responds with a shrug. "Sorry, information overload. My old CO was a car enthusiast. This is his collection he's letting me borrow. He found himself a pretty little blue wife and retired to this colony about ten years ago. He helped me out with certain portions of our date-day."

Shepard leads the way over to the car Miranda has chosen, and fiddles with the set of buttons. She finds the right one and presses it, unlocking the doors, opening them and starting up the engine, all in one click. She holds the passenger door and gestures for Miranda to get in. Miranda slides in and is overcome by the scent of leather. Real leather, not the manufactured stuff used in modern furniture and accessories.

Shepard slides in beside her, and gives her knee a quick squeeze. "Lawson, I am about to blow all your expectations about my driving out of the water. Watch and learn."

Miranda withholds a laugh as Shepard stalls the car on the first gear change. Shepard blanches slightly and grits her teeth, starting the car up again. "It just needs to be warmed up," she says defiantly.

Miranda sets her lips into a straight line and nods. "Yes, of course it does."

Shepard gets the car moving in a forward direction and makes a successful gear change, smiling proudly at Miranda. They make their way down the dirt track that has been made specifically for these cars.

"It's weird to think that this is the way our great-grandparents would've gotten around on a daily basis," Shepard says thoughtfully.

Miranda watches the passing terrain out of the passenger side window. "The human race has come a long way in the last 100 years."

"I can't even imagine it," Shepard says with a low chuckle. "Sitting in one of these for hours, the wife nagging you in one ear, the kids fighting in the back seat, the dog in the trunk. Thank God I wasn't born back then."

Miranda turns towards Shepard. "I don't think they put their dogs in the trunk, Shepard."

"Whatever," Shepard retorts with shrugged shoulders. "My point is, travel must have been a huge inconvenience."

Miranda ponders quietly to herself. She's been seeing Shepard for a while now, but hasn't paid much mind to the future. If they even have a future, which is looking more and more doubtful with the increasing amount of intel they've uncovered on the Collectors. But still, the comment brings the thought to the forefront of her mind, and the question escapes her lips.

"That's what you imagine, is it? Marriage, a couple of kids, a pet of some description?"

Shepard looks over at Miranda suspiciously. "I… don't know. Actually, do you mind if I don't answer that? I've got the strangest feeling I might be falling into some sort of trap here."

Miranda looks her commander over carefully. "It's just that… not everyone has limitless options when it comes to family. Reproduction, to be specific, can be problematic for some."

"Oh," Shepard says as she shifts gear again, the car groaning unappreciatively in response. "You mean, you can't… Yep, I think I've got your meaning."

Miranda shifts in her seat, feeling slightly frustrated. _Surely Shepard has an opinion beyond_ '_Yep_.'

"Is that all you have to say, Shepard?"

Shepard takes her eyes off the road for a split second, shooting a look at Miranda. "What do you want me to say? It's none of my business. And if it was, well, in case you haven't noticed, I don't produce sperm. Starting a family would always have required some… intervention. Not saying that I expect to be the one you start a family with. Not saying that I don't _want_ to be the one you start a family with. Er..." Shepard breaks into a light sweat. "Shit… how did I end up in this conversation?" she hisses to herself.

Shepard runs a hand through her hair and clears her throat. "What I mean is, you're a trailblazer. You rebuilt a human being from mummified remains and a half frozen brain. If you want to have kids, you'll find a way to have kids. And, for what it's worth, I think you'd make a good Mom."

Miranda feels herself smile. "I'm not sure if I believe you, but thanks for saying it."

Shepard appears to relax slightly, the awkwardness in the air quickly shifting. The commander drops the car back a gear and starts to slow down, bringing them to a stop at a peak and turning the engine off.

Miranda looks down at the sweeping valleys and the pink sun setting on the horizon before them. "This is a beautiful view, Shepard."

"Yes, it is," Shepard says, looking directly at Miranda.

Miranda turns to her and smiles, before leaning in for a kiss. Shepard returns it with enthusiasm, placing her hand on her favourite part of Miranda's neck.

"You know, there's something else that people used to do in cars…" Shepard whispers into Miranda's ear.

Miranda rubs her cheek against Shepard's face softly. "So I've heard," she says in a low voice.

"Shall I show you the back seat, Miss Lawson?"

"I think you'd better…"

* * *

Miranda approaches the navpoint for the restaurant that she was instructed to meet Shepard at. She spots the sign from a distance, and notices a brunette standing outside, with her hair pinned back into a delicate hairstyle and a short, black cocktail dress on.

"Shepard?" Miranda asks as she gets closer, an obvious note of surprise in her voice, "You're… wearing a dress?"

Shepard turns towards her and shifts awkwardly, looking down at herself. "Er… yeah, I know. It looks weird, doesn't it? I think I still have time to go back and change."

Miranda grabs her hands and holds her in place. "No, it doesn't look weird. It looks… cute. Perfect, really."

Shepard gives a small, sheepish smile. "You look lovely too," she says as she looks Miranda up and down.

Miranda meets the commander's gaze and smiles seductively. Shepard really does look pretty tonight. "Thank you, Shepard."

Shepard offers the crook of her elbow and Miranda threads her arm through. "Shall we?" the commander suggests as she leads the Cerberus officer through the door and into the restaurant.

The restaurant itself is clean and beautifully adorned. It's dimly lit, the main source of light coming from the large, elaborate candelabras on the empty tables.

The couple approaches the light blue asari hostess. "Commander Shepard? My name is Anya, and I'll be your hostess for tonight," she says in the warm, husky tones possessed by most of her race.

Shepard gives a nod and a small smile, and they're escorted to a table in the corner with panoramic views of the colony. The planet's three moons are reflecting on the ocean that the two women spent most of the day at.

The hostess pours them a glass of wine each. "As per your request, Commander, this section of the restaurant has been booked out for your exclusive use. Your first dish will arrive shortly."

"Thank you, Anya," comes Shepard's clipped reply.

Miranda looks across the table at Shepard. "You booked out a restaurant for us?"

Shepard takes a sip and looks up at her date. "Yeah. Well, half of it. They wouldn't let me take the whole thing. I just wanted us to have some privacy." She lowers her glass and pulls out the napkin, laying it daintily across her lap. "I hope you don't mind, but I ordered a sample of each of their dishes as well. I don't know much about asari food, so I thought we should just try it all."

"This must have cost a fortune, Shepard…" Miranda says quietly, looking around at their lush surroundings.

Shepard gives a wry smile. "Well, I don't expect you to fuck for free, Miss Lawson."

"Shepard!" Miranda says sternly, eliciting a laugh from the commander.

"Just a joke, just a joke!" Shepard says defensively as she puts her hands up in surrender. "That asshole we call a boss pays well. Don't worry yourself about it."

Miranda shifts uncomfortably at the mention of the Illusive Man, but leaves the topic alone. "This is… very nice, Shepard. Thank you."

Shepard gives her a patient smile. "A passionate embrace on the sand as the waves lap around us? Check. Some backseat fun overlooking a beautiful viewpoint at sunset? Check. Expensive candlelight dinner? Check-mate. I told you you'd experience romance first hand with me. It's just a shame it took me so long to get around to it."

_It has been a while. Even she's acknowledging it. She's just organized a romantic day for you. Ask her. Now._

Miranda tucks a rogue strand of hair behind her ear. "Speaking of which… I've been meaning to ask you something." She pauses awkwardly and tries to formulate the words on her tongue. "What… _are we_, Shepard?"

Shepard leans in and carefully assesses Miranda's face, trying to derive a meaning from the vague question. "Well, that depends on how specific you need me to be? We're both human beings, we're both female, we're both genetically engineered." Miranda rolls her eyes, and Shepard chuckles. "More specific than that, huh? Okay, we're both brunettes, we're both good with a gun, we're both awesome, should I continue?"

Miranda lets out an irritated sigh and gives Shepard a scathing stare. "You know what I mean, Shepard."

"Yes, I do. I just wanted to make you say it." Shepard crosses her legs and takes a sip of her wine. "I believe I've made my desires clear, so what we are, my dear Miss Lawson, largely depends on what you want us to be?"

Miranda sits back slightly, unsure of how to answer. Carefully planned sexual trysts are her forte, but ongoing sexual intimacy, relationships, even love, it's all completely unfamiliar to her. "Well, we've been physically intimate for over two months now, we see each other every day, and we get along for the most part. I just want to understand what this means, and where I stand with you."

Shepard smiles across the table. "Are you asking me to go steady, Miss Lawson? Should we exchange class rings and go to the prom together?"

Miranda frowns and gives Shepard a small kick under the table. "Surely you can see the difficulty I'm having with this topic? I don't do attachment well. Please, enough jokes. Just give me a straight answer, Shepard."

Shepard reaches a hand across the table and runs her fingertips over Miranda's knuckles. "Okay then, I'll try to be serious. I've never met anybody like you, Miranda. You've got brains, biotics and booty. The perfect trifector." Miranda crosses her arms over her chest, nearing the end of her patience. Shepard shifts in the seat, suddenly looking unconfident and uncomfortable. An errant thought hits Miranda. _Maybe she has trouble with this stuff too, but instead of cloaking herself in abrasive professionalism like I do, she defers with jokes…_

Shepard leans forward and continues. "I'll be honest with you. I haven't been in a relationship for a really long time. I've been burned once or twice, and it's made me somewhat wary. But you… _you_ are definitely worth jumping into the fire for. If you're interested, that is?"

Miranda's heart skips slightly in her chest, but she keeps her tone even. "Yes, I'm interested. I think we're both crazy, but I'm interested."

Shepard wraps Miranda's hand in hers and pulls it up to her lips, kissing the back of it. "Well, alright then. I suppose that's what _we are_, then."

The moment is quickly broken when the asari hostess comes to the table with a platter of savory pastries in hues of green, blue and purple. Shepard retrieves her hand as the food is put on the table between the two women.

"Sorry to interrupt you, Commander, but the two gentlemen that have just walked in were wondering if they could buy you and your friend a drink?" the hostess asks apologetically.

Miranda looks over her shoulder at the two handsome humans in their dress suits. She looks back to Shepard, who raises her eyebrows disapprovingly. "No thank you, Anya, please tell them that me and my… er... girlfriend… are having a private dinner."

The commander cringes slightly and shoots a quick look at Miranda, as if waiting to be scolded. Miranda has been labelled many things in her life; progeny, fugitive, agent, spy, terrorist, object of desire, scientist, sister, ice-queen, bitch; but never before has she allowed the label of girlfriend to be placed upon her. It feels… nice.

"Of course, Commander," the asari says with a small bow of her head as she backs away from the table.

Miranda has a sip of wine and watches as Shepard begins to devour her food. She smiles to herself. _Food, sex and killing - Shepard's three favorite things, in that exact order_.

"I've had a good day, Shepard. I'm glad we got the chance to do this."

Shepard swallows a mouthful and nods. "Yeah, I did pretty well, didn't I? Three dates in one day. And you know what they say about the third date don't you?" She pauses and wiggles her eyebrows. "Maybe now you'll finally put out."

Miranda gives Shepard another quick kick under the table, and the soldier laughs. "Sorry, I forgot, you already have. Too easy, Miss Lawson!" A third kick. "Okay, okay, no more teasing. I had a good day too. I'm almost thankful to the lazy bastard who didn't equip my ship with the right gear, it meant I got some time off with you."

Miranda laughs softly and holds Shepard's gaze. "That's better, you always get there in the end, Shepard."

Shepard hesitates for a moment, and her face turns serious. "Miranda… when we're alone, I'd like it if you called me Jane from now on."

Miranda's eyes widen slightly. She hasn't heard anybody but Dr Chakwas call the commander by her first name. As far as she's aware, it's a total taboo. This is a major development. Maybe even bigger than the girlfriend bomb that got dropped sixty seconds ago.

"I can do that, Jane."


	8. The Gauntlet

_A/N: __As always, read, enjoy, review, rinse and repeat._

* * *

**8**

**THE GAUNTLET**

**21 Years Ago**

_Henry Lawson approaches his child's bed. Her chest is heavily strapped, and he can see that she's been crying. He doesn't know which sin is bigger, the mistake she made today, or the fact that she sobbed about it._

_"I want you to tell me what happened in your class with Mrs Warner."_

_Miranda drops her gaze, the shame seeping into her voice. "I... was injured."_

_He scoffs angrily and scowls at the girl. "Look at where you are, Miranda! It's painfully bloody obvious that you were injured! I'm asking what happened that led to the injury."_

_Miranda fights back against the tears that are threatening to spill. She will not cry in front of Father. Crying is the ultimate weakness, he says so all the time. "We were doing a trust exercise. I was meant to stand on the desk and fall backwards, and she was meant to catch me."_

_He regards his child carefully. Her hair is growing dark and long, her lips are plump, her eyes are sparkling and intelligent. Her breasts are beginning to bud, her hips starting to thicken, and her legs are becoming shapely. She is taking on the form of a woman, and he'll be buggered if she's a weak one. Not while she's carrying his name. His legacy. This lesson needs to be learned now, before she starts looking at boys and listening to their lies._

_"And she didn't catch you, did she Miranda?"_

_Miranda swallows the lump in her throat. She doesn't like Mrs Warner, she wants her old tutor, Lacy, back. But Lacy is kind, funny, warm and charming; everything that Henry Lawson wants to steer his daughter away from. _

_"No. She stepped back and watched me fall to the ground."_

_"And what did you learn from that, Miranda?" he asks softly. Too softly. It almost sounds like he's concerned for her._

_"I… learned that Mrs Warner doesn't care if I get hurt or not…?" Miranda meant it as a statement, but she's let the pitch shift higher on the final word, making it become a question. More weakness!_

_An impatient frown crosses Henry Lawson's face, as he prepares to teach his child the most important lesson of her life. A lesson he hoped she had already been more than educated on by now. _

_"No, that isn't what you learned. You learned to be self sufficient. If you had stayed standing on your own two feet, you wouldn't be in this situation. But you didn't stay on your own two feet, did you Miranda? You put your faith and your trust in somebody else, and now you're going to spend tonight in the hospital with three broken ribs. Never trust anybody, Miranda. Not with your safety, not with your body, not with anything. People are selfish by nature, and everybody will let you down. The only person you can ever rely on is yourself. It's good that you've learned this lesson young. Most people aren't as lucky as you."_

_Miranda nods her head slowly. The medication is wearing off, and the searing pain is pulsing through her chest again. She feels the furthest thing in the world from lucky, as her father's sadistic lesson sinks in and ricochets around her brain; an echo that will follow her for decades. _

_"Yes, Father."_

* * *

Miranda meets the emerald green eyes in battle. "I _said_ no!

Shepard cocks her head and smiles playfully. "But I want so badly to hear yes!"

"NO!" Miranda says sternly, raising both her eyebrows to convey her seriousness.

"It'll be fuuuuun," Shepard sing songs, moving closer.

"No, it will be hell! Go without me!"

Shepard pushes Miranda down on the bed and runs her fingernails gently along the neckline of Miranda's uniform. "But we recruited Tali today. We've finally got the full female compliment on our squad. Which means we need to celebrate with a girl's night out!"

Miranda frowns and props herself up. "That is absurd, Shepard. Why do we need to celebrate at all, let alone by drinking and wasting time?"

Shepard gives her an exasperated frown. "Jeez, who pissed in your coffee this morning? It will be good for morale!"

"Shepard, you seem to forget why I'm here," Miranda says as she swats Shepard's wandering hands off her. "I am here to keep the mission on track. To keep _you_ on track. This juvenile diversion to Ilium is a ridiculous misuse of your time and talents."

Shepard pins the operative down under her body and her hands slide their way onto Miranda's curvaceous hips. Shepard leans forward and puts her lips to Miranda's ear. "I'll do that thing you really like," Shepard whispers, making Miranda's skin prickle.

She shoots her commander one last furious gaze, before feeling her resolve weaken under the electric touch. "Ugh, fine. But I'm putting a three hour limit on the stop-over, and there's a five drink maximum for everyone. I don't want to see a single hangover tomorrow morning."

Shepard chuckles as she takes Miranda's zip in her teeth and starts sliding it down. "Mmmhmm," she answers unconvincingly.

* * *

_I can't believe I let her talk me into this. I shouldn't let her childish desires control my actions. From now on, I'm putting my foot down. Unless she's offering to do that thing I like…_

"I'm telling you Gabby, you and Kenneth, I see it happening," Shepard says confidently as she sits across the table from the junior engineer.

"You really think so, Commander?" Gabby asks sheepishly.

Shepard nods her head adamantly. "_Totally!_ Just the accent alone, even _I_ almost forgive the fact that he has a dick. That's just me though. I jump on my back as a basic reflex to an accent…" She trails off with a sly smile as she strokes Miranda's thigh under the table.

Miranda blushes and takes a long sip through the straw of her cocktail. The table is already littered with empty glasses and bottles, Shepard's empty beers being the most predominant beverage displayed. _It's so nice to see that she took my warning about hangovers seriously_…

The mechanized voice of the newest recruit interrupts Miranda's thoughts. "All you humans sound the same to me," Tali interjects with a shrug.

Shepard glances over at her friend. "Oh, I'd be careful if I was you, Miss Zorah, you've got a little bit of an accent there yourself, and we all know how well you fill out an enviro-suit."

Shepard gives a tiny yelp as Miranda pinches the back her hand, before rubbing it quickly to soothe away the sting. _That was just a warning shot_.

Gabby blushes and laughs, her own accent coming out in the thick North American drawl that defines her as Earth-born. "Don't you have a problem with it though, Commander? I know the Alliance has regs against it."

Shepard frowns and gives an exaggerated shrug. "Daniels, if you haven't noticed, we're not with the Alliance anymore. And even if we were, those frat regs can lick my left nut. Do they seriously expect to put together a ship full of young, fit soldiers, and there to be no bunk-jumping? Uh-uh buddy, not on my watch!"

From the corner of the booth, Jack slams her empty shot glass down on the table and laughs. "This is why I sorta don't hate you, Shepard. You're not like the rest of these Cerberus pricks." She says the last word as she stares pointedly at Miranda. Shepard squeezes Miranda's thigh as the XO seethes silently. "Hell, once we blow up that Cerberus base, I might even graduate to liking you," Jack continues, the evenness of her voice not betraying the dozen shots of Verushian vodka she's already drunk.

"What?" Miranda blurts out, as her eyes bore into the biotic convict. Jack looks back with a small, steady smirk, while Shepard chokes and splutters on her beer.

"Oh, what's this? The princess doesn't know about our planned stopover to Pragia? _Woops._" Jack sits back and folds her arms over her exposed chest with a satisfied smile on her face.

Shepard turns her face towards Miranda, her eyes flashing guiltily. "It's… complicated. We'll talk about it later."

Jack gestures violently, trying to get the barkeeper's attention for another drink. "When it's done, Shepard, I'm going to shout you some commemorative ink. Something that says 'fuck you all'."

"You most certainly will not," Miranda says stiffly as she feels Shepard's hand drop away from her leg in defeat.

"Shut up bitch, you don't get to tell Shepard what to do. You pussied out instead of giving her that control chip, remember? Bet you're regretting that now, huh?"

"Sweet Jesus…" Shepard murmurs quietly as Miranda jabs her sharply under the table. They would need to have a discussion later about what information Shepard repeats to the rest of the crew. _To the unstable, psychotic, ex-criminal, in particular._

"There's still plenty of time to put one in your demented head," Miranda shoots back._  
_

"Bring it on, Cerberus whore. I would love to see you try," Jack says through gritted teeth, standing up from her seat.

Shepard looks up and points her finger across the table, going into Commander mode. "Okay, reel it in, both of you. Jack, I know how you feel about Cerberus, but pinning all of that on Miranda isn't fair. I work for them as well, and you don't give me shit."

"You're right," Jack says as she flips the bird at the commander, "You're both assholes, go and fuck yourselves. I'll be at the bar." She flares her biotics briefly in anger as she storms off and disappears quickly through the crowd.

"That went well," Shepard mutters under her breath.

Miranda is taken aback. Having someone stand up for her is… rare. Mostly because people don't like her. Which is mostly because she doesn't like them.

She turns towards Shepard, and whispers in her ear. "Thank you. I really hope she doesn't cause us more trouble than she's worth."

Shepard sets her jaw grimly and stares into her beer. "She'll be fine. I've met her kind before. There's a good person under all that anger. PTSD is a terrible thing." She pauses thoughtfully as she glances in the direction that the tattooed convict went in. "I'll set a course for Pragia within the next few weeks. Exorcise some of her demons. I think she'll calm down."

An awkward lull falls over the table, with Tali and Gabby not knowing what to say, while everything that Miranda and Shepard have to say needs to wait for privacy.

There's a flash of blue and red, and then suddenly a figure appears at the end of the booth. "Okay Commander, it's time to dance!" Kelly Chambers announces. She's wearing an enticing blue dress, and her face is slightly flushed from the hour that she's spent on the dance-floor with Samara and Kasumi.

Tali gives a small, knowing snort into her helmet, as Shepard retreats slightly further into the booth. "Nooooope! I can't dance Kelly."

Kelly reaches out and grabs Shepard's hand, yanking lightly. Miranda feels her teeth set on edge as a wave of possessiveness sweeps over her.

The yeoman batts her eyes. "I don't believe that for a minute, Commander. I've seen the vid footage of you in battle. You have a strong and graceful body. I bet you're a great dancer."

Tali snorts into her helmet even louder this time, gaining Shepard's attention. The commander smirks at the quarian, and gestures with her hand. "I'm sure Miss Tali here would be more than happy to accommodate you if you want another dance partner, Chambers. _She's_ certainly got the moves."

Tali throws Shepard what Miranda can only assume is a scornful look hidden behind that mask.

"Oh, okay," Chambers says hesitantly. "Would you like to join me, Tali?"

Tali sighs and lifts herself from her seat, trudging off in the direction of the dance floor. Gabby Daniels suddenly looks intimated as she sits at the table alone with both her Commanding and Executive Officer. "I might just join the other girls," she says, quickly excusing herself.

Miranda sits back and smiles, letting her hand take a place on Shepard's upper thigh. She's been waiting to get the commander to herself all night.

"Jane," Miranda starts, shifting her body so that she's facing the soldier, "Are you aware that Yeoman Chambers has her sights set on you?"

"Oh, sweet Miranda, I am but one of many," Shepard responds as she laughs loudly into her beer. "Kelly has literally said she would fuck every single member of the squad. It's no biggie."

"Everyone else on the squad is single," Miranda counters sternly.

Shepard nods and shifts her gaze towards their crew-mates on the dance-floor. "Just give me the word, and I'll go over there right now and tell them all that I'm off the market."

Miranda sighs. "It's not that simple Shepard, I wish it was. I want nothing more than for everyone on the ship to know that you're mine. But with the complications it would cause with Cerberus... It's just not in our best interests right now."

"Uh-huh," Shepard says doubtfully.

"That doesn't excuse you from setting things straight with Chambers though. You need to make some time to speak with her and let her know that you're unavailable. I _don't_ share."

Shepard throws her a smile. "I seeeeee. Now we're getting to the crux of it. You're the jealous type, hmm?"

"Jealous? Don't be stupid. I just think that I'm worthy of your full attention."

Shepard eyes her off suspiciously. "We can agree on that. But you can't blame people for wanting a piece of the ol' Shepard's pie. I _am_ adorable." Miranda quirks her eyebrows in a unimpressed fashion and Shepard gives a conceding nod. "Okay, okay, I'll _try_ not to fall over and accidentally screw Kelly Chambers on the way down. Better?"

Miranda rolls her eyes. "Thank you for your sincerity, as usual."

Shepard laughs and grabs Miranda's hand. "I'm sorry, I'm just playing. You've just surprised me a bit, I thought you were a lot more confident than this."

"Confidence and trust are mutually exclusive," Miranda answers sourly.

Shepard scratches her head and narrows her eyes. "No they're not. Not at all. It takes confidence to trust somebody. Take a battle, for example. I go out there and I trust you to have my back, despite the fact that I've seen ballerinas that are more heavily armored than you, because I have confidence in your ability to not get me killed."

Miranda screws up her face. "Terrible example, Shepard."

"Okay, I'll try something a bit closer to home then. Take a relationship. In order to trust your partner, you need to be confident in your own instincts, and the quality of the person that you've chosen." Shepard punctuates her point by pausing to take a swig of her beer. "If you don't trust me when I've given you no cause to doubt me, it's got nothing to do with me, and everything to do with you. You've been conditioned to believe that nothing good or real will ever happen to you. I'll bet credits on the fact that most of the time, you've probably been proved right. But I'm telling you, when it comes to me, you're in for a pleasant surprise."

Miranda sits back and contemplates. "That actually makes a bit of sense, Jane," she says in surprise.

Shepard laughs and elbows Miranda in the arm. "Gee, thanks! Try not to sound too shocked. The last time I checked, I wasn't exactly the village idiot."

Miranda gives an embarrassed chuckle. "Sorry, I know. I'm just not used to receiving a new perspective. Thank you."

"You're welcome, precious. Now come on, you've done your time. I'll go and set up a bar-tab for the girls and get you back to my cabin. Maybe you'll let me prove that you are, without a doubt, the only thing that's on my mind. Well, you and the Collectors. Which, granted, isn't exactly the sexiest combination, but lucky for you, I'm good at compartmentalizing."

"You are so wasted on military life, Shepard. The galaxy has truly been robbed of one of the greatest orators of our time."

Shepard pulls Miranda up lightly to her feet, and closes the distance between them. "There is only room in this relationship for one smartass, and don't you forget it. Now get moving before you earn yourself a spanking."

* * *

Miranda barges through the door without even waiting for the justicar to invite her in. "Samara, I need to speak with you immediately."

Samara turns around serenely, and the biotic field around her dissipates instantly.

"Miranda, this is so unnecessary," Shepard says sharply, coming up behind her and gripping her elbow.

"What is troubling you, Miranda? I shall do my best to put your mind at ease," the matriarch says in an low, even voice.

Miranda grits her teeth and, in an unusual show of unprofessionalism, she raises her voice. "You're asking Shepard to go and seduce an asari that can kill with her mind? That is lunacy!"

Samara gracefully unfolds herself from her meditation position and stands up. "I will be with her every step of the way, Miranda. Morinth is a dangerous murderer, addicted to killing, who will destroy many more lives if she is not stopped. Commander Shepard is my only hope of drawing her out."

"By using her as bait?"

Samara turns her back and glances out the window, her voice remaining calm. "Yes, Shepard will be the lure. I will not lie to you, Miranda, the commander will be in danger, but no more than she was in when she had Eclipse mercenaries shooting at her to fulfill your needs."

The air hisses through Shepard's teeth at Samara's forward statement. "Yeah, that's probably not the best way to bring her over to your cause, Samara."

"That is a completely unfair comparison. The Eclipse mercenaries where shooting at her - poorly, I might add - with guns. She had armor, shields and cover to protect herself. They weren't going to slink off and have sex with her until she died. You're asking too much, Samara," Miranda protests.

Samara gets a small, knowing smile on her face. "I see. So your fears extend beyond that for your commander's safety, and stretch into concerns for your bondmate's fidelity."

Miranda crosses her arms and scowls, completely thrown off by the justicar's accusation. "What? Bondmate? Shepard and I are co-workers - "

Shepard pats Miranda affectionately on the shoulder. "Cut the bullshit, little M, this is an asari matriarch you're talking to. She can smell a lie."

Miranda feels herself blush slightly. "But... we've been private. How did you know?"

Samara looks between Shepard and Miranda. "When two strong beings find their match, they place a mark upon each others souls, which is visible to a spiritually evolved creature, such as myself. The closest translation that comes to mind is what you humans call a soul-mate."

"Oh…" Miranda says, hazarding a look over her shoulder at Shepard, who's grimacing at the asari's words.

"My many years of life have also heightened my senses, particularly my hearing, and my quarters are just below the commander's. She is obviously a skilled and devoted lover. You are very lucky, Miranda."

Shepard shoots a quick glance at Miranda's reddening cheeks before she throws her head back and laughs.

Samara's face remains impassive. "You needn't fear for your commander on either count. My daughter is beautiful, and deadly, but so is Shepard. And she has her love for you to grant her strength in the face of Morinth's power."

"Love…?" Miranda repeats the word unconsciously.

"Bondmate, soul marking, love; can you tap the brakes a bit, Samara?" Shepard growls impatiently.

"I am sorry if I have spoken out of turn, Commander. You humans have different customs than the asari when it comes to claiming a mate. I think it would be best if I returned to my meditations now."

Shepard yanks Miranda's elbow and peels out of the room with her. "Goddamn it. Between her and the fucking drell, I've heard about as much philosophical bullshit as I can stand," she grumbles as she leads the way to Miranda's cabin.

"I'm not okay with this, Jane," Miranda says, almost pleadingly.

Shepard picks up the pace and practically throws Miranda into her cabin, smacking the door control behind her. As soon as the door has closed, she turns and takes Miranda's face in her hands, looking deeply and sincerely into her lover's eyes. "You have trust issues, I get it. But I'm not going to do anything. And if I do, I'll be dead. You can even refuse to rebuild me this time, just to teach me a lesson." She pulls Miranda in and hugs her closely.

"This isn't a joke, Jane," Miranda mumbles into the commander's shoulder.

Shepard releases her and takes a step back. "Do I look like I'm laughing? I'm serious, Miranda. We've decided to be together, and I don't mess around with that. I would never cheat on you. With anyone, least of all some serial-killing asari succubus. If you don't believe that, then I honestly don't know what you're bothering with me for."

Miranda drops her head. "I'm sorry, Shepard. But if you knew my father, you'd understand. He was obsessed with controlling every aspect of my life. Nobody was ever on my side, nothing was ever mine - "

"I am," Shepard interrupts as she steps in and peppers Miranda's cheek with gentle kisses. "I am yours."

* * *

"How's that for fucking gratitude?" Shepard fumes as she stalks into Miranda's cabin and throws her top off.

"What?" Miranda asks, looking up from the terminal and letting her eyes follow the view of the stripping commander.

"I helped her snuff her crazy kid yesterday, and now she's threatening to kill me!"

"Samara threatened you?" Miranda asks as she reflexively stands from her desk.

Shepard sits on the bed and drags her boots off angrily. "Yes! Can you believe that? Said that I've done some stuff that will compel her to attack me once her oath is over. What have I done? I'm a good person!"

Miranda pauses and bites her lip.

"Well, you did kill those batarians in the Omega plague zone."

"If they were stupid enough to drop their weapons, they deserved to die."

"And you pushed that mercenary out of the window on Ilium."

"He was being rude."

"And you let that incapacitated volus get himself killed by a band of Eclipse."

"Volus have a short life expectancy anyway."

"And you assassinated that unarmed politician on the Citadel."

"He was… a dick."

"And don't even get me started on your behavior pre-resurrection. You destroyed an entire species, you let the council go down in flames, and your actions on Asteroid X57 were questionable at best, war crimes at worst."

"...Are you done yet? Whose side are you on, Miranda?"

Miranda moves over to the bed and snakes an arm around Shepard's waist. "Yours, as always."

Shepard grumbles incoherently as she pulls her pants off.

"Well, you're not playing coy tonight," Miranda says as she hooks a finger in Shepard's pantyline.

"Huh?" Shepard says as she looks down and notices Miranda's tugging hand. "Oh, nah, not tonight. I'm borrowing your shower. Gardner needs to fix the pipes in mine. I've gotta get ready quickly and head out for drinks with Jack tonight."

Miranda's hand recoils at the sound of the name. "Ugh, why?"

"I lost a shitload of credit with her when I stuck up for you the other night," Shepard says with a a quick glance at Miranda. "I thought I could win her over by spending a bit of bonding time with her. Have at least one powerful biotic on this ship that doesn't want to kill me."

"I don't trust you two together. This has disaster written all over it."

"It will be fine," Shepard says, standing up and planting a swift kiss on Miranda's cheek. "Nothing bad will happen."

**4 hours later**

"Miranda, something bad happened…" Shepard says as she stumbles into the XO's cabin.

Miranda snaps to attention and sits up, her eyes adjusting to the dark. "Light!" she commands, and her cabin is bathed in the harsh glare from her nearby lamp. "What have you done, Shepard?"

Shepard sits on the end of the bed with her head in her hands. "You're going to be so angry."

Miranda moves closer, and starts to feel her pulse rate rise. "Just tell me what you did!"

"It was all Jack's idea. I only went along with it because I was drunk. Oh lord I am never drinking again!" Shepard says mournfully.

Miranda crawls even closer, and the smell of Shepard enters her nose. She has possibly spent the night bathing in whiskey, from the strength of the scent, and she's had at least one shot of ryncol, but there's something else underlying it, something familiar that Miranda can't quite put her finger on.

"For God's sake Shepard! Are you going to tell me or not?"

Shepard slowly lifts her tee-shirt above her head, revealing the bandage in the middle of her lower back. The third scent suddenly hits Miranda. _Medigel_!

"Jane..." Miranda whimpers as her eyes widen in horror with the realization. "Please, tell me you didn't?"

Shepard nods her head slowly. "I did. I hereby throw myself at your mercy."

"What did you get, Shepard?" Miranda asks, trying to keep the disappointment out of her voice.

"Take a look for yourself," Shepard says quietly, and Miranda gently pulls back the bandage.

There, staring out up at her, in all it's glory, right in the middle of the commander's lower back, is a freshly inked tattoo.

"It's a… lower case m?" Miranda asks, trying to catch a look at Shepard's face.

"Little M, get it? It seemed like a romantic gesture at the time." Shepard drags the heels of her hands down her cheekbones. "Oh God, I already regret this."

"That is... umm... very permanent," Miranda says as runs her thumb along Shepard's new tattoo and tries not to smile.

"No shit! How am I gonna explain this one to the next Cerberus babe who has to rebuild me?"

Miranda flicks the newly inked flesh with a precision strike of her index finger. "Ass."

"You love it," Shepard says, turning around with a drunken smile.

* * *

The elevator closes behind Miranda, just as the door to Shepard's cabin is opening. A beetroot red Kelly Chambers steps out, dressed in a catsuit better suited for a stripper or a prostitute.

"What are you doing, Kelly?" Miranda asks instantly, not hiding the fury in her voice.

Kelly refuses to respond or even look at Miranda as she burns a brighter shade of red, slinking past the XO and into the already open elevator. Miranda feels a white hot flash of anger as she storms into Shepard's cabin. Shepard is standing in her cargo pants and bra, straightening out her bed, with sexy music thrumming in the background.

"Get the fuck out, Kelly, we're done here," Shepard snaps as she finishes the last corner.

"I bet you are," Miranda says coldly, hands on her hips, tapping her foot.

Shepard whirls around, her face full of alarm. "This is completely not how it looks, Miranda."

"It looks like you just slept with Kelly Chambers, so please, enlighten me," Miranda responds stiffly, feeling the blood in her veins turn to ice.

"She's just got a little crush. I set her straight. It doesn't have to be a big deal."

"Not a big deal?! I told you I don't share! Damn it, I can't believe I actually listened to your bullshit!" Miranda turns on her heel and starts storming towards the door, but Shepard sprints after her, blocking the way with her body.

"I don't want to be shared," she insists, her voice high with panic. "I swear I didn't touch her. Well, I did, but not in a good way. Please just calm down and let me talk."

Miranda scowls at her soon-to-be ex-lover. "You're topless, and your bed has obviously been used. Rather recently, I imagine. Chambers couldn't even look me in the eye just now. You and I have absolutely nothing to talk about. Get out of my way!"

She goes to step around Shepard, who grabs her waist with both hands and tries to hold her in place. Miranda reels her entire arm back and slaps Shepard across the face. The soldier takes a few steps back, shocked by the blow. Miranda uses the gap to step past the commander.

_Don't cry, don't cry, don't cry, don't you dare cry over her_.

Shepard recovers quickly and grabs her by the elbow.

"Don't touch me!" Miranda shouts as she snaps around, throwing a biotic blast that sends the commander slamming into the wall.

"Miranda... please," Shepard calls out pitifully as Miranda steps into the elevator and lets the doors hiss closed behind her.

Miranda pinches the bridge of her nose as she waits for the shock to wear off and the pain to sink in. She doesn't have to wait long.

She dashes to her cabin the moment the elevator stops, feeling the relief as her cabin door closes behind her. She takes a seat on the end of her bed, the tears welling dangerously. Her commlink beeps furiously, but she ignores it. Shepard is a smooth talker, but not that smooth. She throws herself back on the bed and stares at the ceiling. She forces the pain and the tears down, way down into her abdomen where she forces all her feelings. She won't be surprised if she dies of a stomach ulcer in ten years time, but for now, this is the way it must be.

She starts to rebuild her internal barriers, layer by layer, cursing herself for ever letting them down in the first place. The part of her that smiles for no reason, the part of her that blushes in the commander's presence, and the deep, aching cavity in the center of her chest, she shuts them all off.

"Operative Lawson, you requested to be alerted in the instance that Commander Shepard's body goes into physical distress."

"Not now EDI."

"The commander's heartbeat is currently elevated, and she appears to be injured."

Miranda feels a stab of guilt. She shouldn't have slapped her. She definitely shouldn't have used biotics on her. Well, not in that way. She moves back to a sitting position.

"Alert Dr Chakwas, EDI. I'm not the commander's physician."

"Operative Lawson, I have an audio recording from the captain's cabin that seems likely to yield relevant information."

"Please EDI, I really don't want to hear it."

"Commencing playback:"

**_*Knock knock*_**

_"Okay Liara, I gotta get off the link, there's someone at my door."_

_"Expecting company, Shepard?"_

_"Heh, hoping, but never expecting. She's got an important job to do."_

_"Is there something you haven't been telling me, hmm?"_

_"Well, actually, I have been meaning to tell you about it. It's still early, but it's been pretty intense. I am... happy... Very happy."_

_"I'm pleased to hear that your relationship with the perfect Miss Lawson is going so well."_

_"..."_

_"Shepard?"_

_"I never get to surprise you with anything anymore!"_

_"I'm a very good information broker."_

_"Wait... you bugged my ship?!"_

_"Shepard, please. The Normandy is flying Cerberus colors, and the Alliance is working on your treason case. Of course I bugged your ship."_

_"Shit Liara, do you know how much that's going to psych me out the next time she's in my cabin? Can you at least turn the bedroom ones off or something?"_

_"By the goddess, Commander! I do not have feeds in your bedrooms. There's no need, you are hardly famous for your discretion. I just hope you know what you're doing. If she turns on you..."_

_"She's not going to turn on me Liara. Well, not unless I do something to deserve it. Then she'll probably drill me right between the eyes at point blank range. She doesn't stab people in the back, she shoots them straight from the hip, just the way I like it__."_

_"Shepard, if I didn't know you any better, I might think that you were gushing."_

_"Pfft, Liara, I'm Commander Shepard. And there are three things that Commander Shepard doesn't do. Gush over women, negotiate with batarians, and drive stick. End of story."_

_"The first two are probably true, but the Mako was a stick shift and you drove that all the time. I think I still have the contusions to prove it."_

_"Not the type of stick I was talking about, Li."_

_"But, what - "_

_"Shh, I'll explain it when you're older."_

_***Knock knock***_

_"Shit, I've really gotta go. I'll swing by your office the next time I'm in Blueville and I'll buy you something shiny."_

_"For the last time, Shepard, it's called Ilium, not Blu - "_

_"Sorry, you're breaking up! Bye!"_

_***Commlink disconnects***_

_"Come in!"_

**_*Hiss*_**

_"Hello Commander. I'm just here to feed your fish."_

_"Oh thanks for remembering Kelly, but that's okay, they've already b - __Holy shit, Chambers! What are you wearing?"_

_"You wouldn't dance with me when we went out last week, so I thought I'd dance for you."_

_"Terrible idea, Kelly. Here, take my jumper, cover up and go back downstairs."_

**_*The sound of a body hitting a mattress and music being turned on*_**

_"I'm not taking no for an answer this time, Commander. Just lie back, and relax."_

_"Kelly, I'm serious. Get off me now, and we can pretend this never happened. I don't want to hurt you."_

_"You'd never hurt me Commander. I knew it from the moment I met you. I trust you implicitly - "_

**_*The sound of a quick struggle*_**

_"- Ow! Commander, you're hurting me! Get off!"_

_"I wasn't talking about hurting your feelings, Kelly, I was talking about literally kicking your ass, because I've told you **no** three times now, and you won't stop rubbing against me. I don't want to fuck you, have I made myself clear?"_

_"I… Yes Commander. I'm sorry, I thought you were playing hard to get."_

_"I don't play games, Kelly. I'm with somebody. Somebody who's going to throw a warp field at me if she smells your perfume on my tee-shirt. Shit."_

_"I'll just leave then. Maybe I'll talk to you later."_

_"Yep, whatever."_

**_*Hiss*_**

**_*The sound of a tee-shirt being pulled off and a bed being remade*_**

**_*Hiss*_**

_"Get the fuck out Kelly, we're done here."_

_"I bet you are."_

"Cease playback EDI!" _Oh. My. God._ Miranda races out of her office. The elevator feels as if it's deliberately going slow, grinding every gear to draw out the torture. The captain's cabin is still unlocked, so she bursts in, not confident that Shepard will let her in willingly.

Shepard is sitting on the end of the bed, her elbows leaning on her thighs, her head and shoulders slumped. She looks up warily, and that's when Miranda notices the hand-print across her cheek and the split lower lip.

"I won't even waste my time denying it. A jury would've given me the biotic-chair based on that evidence. Just say and do whatever you need to, Miranda, I won't fight you." Shepard drops her head again and stares at her feet. "I knew I'd screw this up. I'm a fucking idiot," she mumbles bitterly to herself, rubbing her temples.

Miranda crosses the room and sits on the end of the bed, putting a foot of space between them. "I'm so sorry," she says faintly.

Shepard exhales with a relieved sounding sigh. "Don't be. I know what that looked like. That was the worst string of luck I've ever experienced, and keep in mind that the source of that comment has been spaced out of her own damn ship before."

Miranda laughs hollowly.

Shepard looks over at her. "My 23 year old secretary? I mean, am I a total cliche now? You're the one I want to be with, Miranda. I really don't know what else to say."

Miranda sighs and drops her gaze to the ground. "Trust… does not come naturally do me. A lesson I learned very early on in life, courtesy of my father."

Shepard clenches her fists and grinds her teeth audibly. "That man… the second I see him, he's dead."

"_Jane_…"

"No, don't _Jane_ me. Even now, after all these years away from him, he's still affecting you. The cold demeanor, the distrust, the distance. It drains the joy from you."

Miranda puts her hand on Shepard's thigh, and the soldier places her hand on top of it. "Why are you so willing to hear me out now anyway?" Shepard ventures after a moment of silence.

"You forgot to block EDI from your cabin."

Shepard breathes deeply and sits back. "Wow, Commander Shepard, saved by an AI. That's some fucking irony."

Miranda looks into Shepard's face, feeling a surge of guilt at the bloodied lip. She reaches up a hand to touch it. "Jane…"

"It's okay," Shepard says, shrugging her away. "Nothing a dab of medigel won't fix." She thumbs the busted lip thoughtfully. "I'll tell you what, though, my days of calling biotics weak are over, that's for damn sure. I haven't been hit by a slam like that since I fought a squad of asari commandos back on Noveria. Full credit to you."

Miranda moves to the side of the bed and pulls out the commander's personal supply of medigel. She applies a small amount to the end of her finger, and crawls back towards Jane. She runs the medigel along Shepard's lower lip, making eye contact with the commander as she does it.

The commander's gaze is naked with emotion, this afternoon's encounter having been rough on her too. "It's taken me three months of work and a big fucking grappling hook, but I feel like I've finally climbed over your wall. Please don't shut me out again."

Miranda moves her hand and lets it rest on Shepard's cheek. "I won't. I trust you, Jane," she says quietly.

Shepard smiles weakly and nuzzles her cheek into her lover's palm. "You don't have to say that. I know how hard this is for you. Thank you for at least trying for me. I promise I won't ever let you down."

Miranda leans in and tenderly brushes her lips against Shepard's freshly healed mouth. The soldier places a hand on the back of her head and threads her fingers through Miranda's raven colored hair, pulling her in closer. Shepard increases the pressure and parts her lips slightly, allowing them to overlap with Miranda's. They both hold the position for a long time, until their hands stop shaking and their hearts stop pounding. Miranda finally breaks the kiss and leans back. Shepard is smiling at her.

"Are we good?" Shepard asks, closing her eyes and leaning her forehead against Miranda's.

"Yes," Miranda responds, getting another quick kiss from Shepard.

"Good. I hope I at least earned a bit of credit today. I have just gone down in history as the first Alliance marine to say no to a lap dance. God, that used to be my favorite past-time," Shepard says wistfully as she runs her fingers through Miranda's thick tresses.

Miranda laughs softly and maneuvers herself on top of Shepard, straddling the soldier's lap.

Shepard's eyes look up and meet hers. "What's this? Another apology?"

"It only seems fair," Miranda murmurs, as she wraps her arms around Shepard's neck and begins to rhythmically grind her hips.

Shepard puts her hands on Miranda's waist and pulls her in close, clinging to her tightly. "You don't have to do that, Miranda, it was a stupid comment for me to make."

Miranda swipes her hands away and pushes her down on the bed, pinning Shepard's wrists above her head. "No touching the dancers, Shepard," Miranda says sternly, as she leans forward and rubs her chest along Shepard's torso.

"Oh God," Shepard whispers, "I didn't realize you could dance like this."

Miranda runs her breath along Shepard's neck, feeling the commander shudder beneath her. "Of course I can. I was engineered to have a natural sense of rhythm and graceful movements."

"Good to know," Shepard says as a flush begins to work its way up her neck. "EDI! Cease all recordings in the captain's cabin!" she calls out.

"Yes, Commander. Enjoy."


	9. Reprisals

_A/N: __Aspects of this chapter relate to the easily missed side venture that happens if you buy a drink at the lower bar of Afterlife._

_Adult content warning - this chapter contains a sex scene, and a violent/implied torture scene (the two scenes are separate and completely unrelated.) All the same, read at your own risk._

_A big thank you to Hattu, fmuder, bluemarlin, The Sorrows of Arlathan, and Femshawke for their continued feedback, as well as everybody else who has taken the time to give me a review, they are incredibly helpful._

* * *

**9**

**REPRISALS**

**15 Years Ago**

_Jane Shepard rubs her eyes and sits back from the terminal. Her head is throbbing and her eyelids are growing heavy. It's a simple fact; she is never going to understand galactic diplomacy. It's all so… boring, so pointless, and a complete waste of time. She's not going to be some ass-kissing diplomat or ambassador. The second she turns 18, she's taking Elise by the hand, getting the first shuttle off base, and joining the best group of mercenaries they can find. Case closed._

_She swipes her bangs out of her face and lets out a long, frustrated sigh. Her trigger finger is itching, and she's dying for another one of Commander Anderson's weapons training lessons. __The door hisses open, and a familiar face appears._

_"Hey Auntie Karin," Jane says as she stands and greets the older woman, wrapping her arms around the doctor's waist and accepting the hug. __"What are you doing here?"_

_"I'm afraid I've come to give you some bad news, Janey. I think you'd better sit down," Dr Chakwas says gently, guiding her to the nearest seat._

_There's something about the tone of the voice that Jane doesn't like. "What is it?" she asks quietly, studying the doctor's face._

_Chakwas clears her throat, and looks at the 16-year-old Shepard child reproachfully. "There's been an attack on the colony of Mindoir."_

_Jane feels her heart stop pumping, as all the blood drains from her face. "Is she okay?" is all she can manage to choke out. They both know who she's referring to._

_There is no way to sugar coat it, and Karin Chakwas wouldn't, even if she could. Jane Shepard has never been an average child. She's strong, so much stronger than a child should need to be. A born warrior.__  
_

_Today, however, is not an average test of emotional fortitude, as Karin Chakwas has the unenviable task of delivering the child's first heartbreak._

_"No, she's not okay. Her family led a small resistance force against the slavers. Elise was killed. I'm so very sorry, Janey."_

_Jane's grief is instantaneous, as she drops her head into her hands and lets the tears flow, uncontrolled and unreserved. Dr Chakwas is taken aback by the strength of it, but simultaneously relieved that the girl is capable of expressing herself so freely. She strokes the heaving back of the sobbing teenager._

_"I know this isn't easy, Janey, I know how… close, the two of you were."_

_Jane lifts her tear stained face. "I love her." She corrects herself quickly. "I **loved** her."_

_Karin nods sympathetically, offering what small comfort she can. Internally, she curses Hannah Shepard. This is a mother's job. Although, given the way the last 16 years has played out, Karin supposes that her presence is more appropriate. Losing a life long friend, a first love, nobody wants to be comforted by a practical stranger in such an instance._

_The death of Lieutenant George Cooper, his wife, and his three children, has been a hard hit for the Alliance. The SSV Einstein responded to the distress call, but had arrived far too late._

_The Coopers had never been an average military family. They had tried to straddle the two different worlds: colony and Alliance, with George serving at Arcturus Station, while Elise attended the school. The rest of the family stayed behind for stability, so that the Coopers would always have a home of bricks and mortar. A weekend visit home from the Lieutenant and his oldest child had come at the exact wrong time. _

_Jane's tears stop flowing suddenly, and something new comes across her face. Her jaw clenches, and her eyes narrow. "Slavers, you said?" _

_There's something unnerving and cold to the voice. Karin Chakwas is not a trained psychologist, but she has been around soldiers for her entire professional life. This is the swiftest transition into the second stage of grief - anger - that she's ever witnessed._

_Karin nods slowly, her instincts telling her to lie, but her head telling her that Jane will discover the truth eventually anyway. "Yes, that's right. Batarian slavers."_

_Jane straightens up her body, and wipes her eyes. "Thank you for telling me, Auntie Karin. Let Commander Anderson know that I'm ready for another lesson whenever he has the time."_

_Karin is disturbed by the sudden change in demeanor. "Are you okay, Janey? I know you've been through a terrible shock."_

_The girl nods her head, her face full of purpose, her resolve unwavering and absolute. __"I will kill them all."_

* * *

Miranda clicks the news broadcast off and sits back with a huff. Unimpressed is an understatement. She closes her eyes and tries to control the emotions swirling in her brain. Annoyance, frustration, concern, stress, she leashes them all tightly to avoid walking out and creating a scene.

There's another emotion, the one that she's having trouble reigning in. The one that took root inside her and coiled its way through her chest the day Oriana was born. _Protection_. When she was waiting for Shepard on board the Normandy, watching the plume of smoke come up from her navpoint on Zorya, it had been agony. Sitting on pins and needles, not knowing what was happening to the person she cared about. And now, to hear that she's gone and done it again...

Logically, she knows she can't compare Shepard to Oriana. Her sister is barely an adult, a non-combatant, and a soft, gentle soul. Shepard, on the other hand, is a battle-hardened soldier, more than capable of defending herself. The only connection that can possibly be drawn between them is that they're the only two people Miranda has ever lov -

_Wait! No! Ignore that train of thought. It's too soon. When the mission is done, if you both survive, then maybe there will be time for... **that**. _

She stands quickly and runs her hands through her hair, straightening out her uniform on the way to the door. It swishes open quietly, and she hovers out of sight as she hears the three familiar diners chatting in the mess hall.

She hears Shepard's docile and ladylike tones first. " - fucking deserved it."

"Hear, fucking hear!" Zaeed's heavily accented voice rings out in agreement.

Followed by Garrus' deep, multi-chorded speech. "Yeah, I know. It was justice. Thanks for helping me with it, Shepard."

The sound of flesh loudly cupping armor, and then Shepard again. "You did the right thing. You even took him out clean. I would've tortured him a bit first. You're all heart."

The sound of light, turian laughter. "Yeah, you won't be saying that after our sparring session."

Shepard scoffs loudly. "Yeah yeah, this _reach_ I keep hearing about. I expect you to take me down gently, Vakarian. I am injured, after all."

"You still belly-aching over that lit'l chafe you got back on Zorya?!" Zaeed's interjects loudly. "An' here I thought I was working for a goddamn warrior."

"You've got a quad on you, Massani," Shepard chastises sourly, "I did _not_ sign up to be barbecued. You're lucky I didn't leave you there."

"Yeah, alright," he dismisses deeply, "I got Vido, I don't give a shit what else happened."

"Mmm, I noticed that," Shepard says darkly, "I didn't sign up to watch a refinery full of people go up in smoke either. I'm not really ready for you to joke about that, or the second degree burns you gave me."

"Piss weak," Zaeed says as he pushes his seat back sharply, "You need to follow me around more often. You might learn something."

Miranda walks towards the galley, clicking the heels of her boots purposefully. The three people sitting at the far table all freeze in position and stop speaking, and she feels six eyes following her as she takes a plate and serves herself lunch.

"Productive trip to the Citadel?" she asks the group conversationally.

Shepard and Garrus share a quick sideways glance, before Shepard clears her throat and turns back to Miranda. "Moderately productive. Udina was a dick, but that's hardly breaking news. The replacement Council revoked my spectre status. Useless as tits on a hanar, just like the last lot."

"I'm sorry to hear that, your spectre status could have been an advantage." Miranda pauses, calculating her next line as she sizes up the trio of soldiers. "So, what else did you do there? You were gone all morning."

Shepard throws a warning glance at the turian and British mercenary. "Just… shopped… and stuff… Got some great new assault rifle mods."

Miranda folds her arms and raises one eyebrow at the group. Soldiers don't often make good liars, and the three sitting before her are no exception. Garrus is performing morse code with his twitching mandibles, Zaeed is rubbing the back of his neck and keeping his eyes trained on the table, while Shepard has developed a sudden keen interest in staring into her casserole.

"Five hours off the ship to see the councilor and buy a few weapon upgrades? Shepard, you're losing your touch…" Miranda says, eyeing the woman off carefully.

The three diners sit in the silence of solidarity, as Miranda continues. "Frankly, I'm just relieved to see you all back in one piece. The news is reporting an incident at the Orbital Lounge. A turian was shot through the head in the middle of a crowd. I'll give the sniper this much, he - or she - clearly has a lot of gall."

"Bugger this, I'm off!" Zaeed says, standing and turning in his heavy boots towards the elevator. Shepard gives Garrus a quick nudge and they speak a secret, silent language.

"Shepard! You are unbelievable!" Miranda admonishes, anger and frustration tempering her tone.

Shepard sighs and turns her gaze towards her turian comrade. "Garrus, can you give us a minute?"

Garrus stands quickly, the relief flooding from him in waves. "Of course Shepard. Things to do. Calibrations and er, things. You let me know when you're ready for that sparring match."

Shepard waves him off as he stalks past her and down the corridor to the main battery. As Miranda crosses the distance between the galley and the mess hall, Shepard sits back and puts her hands up in surrender. "Okay, okay, you got me. But in my defense, I didn't pull the trigger. That was Garrus' blood debt."

Miranda shakes her head. "You could have been caught, Shepard. You can't conduct yourself like a bloody vigilante in the middle of the damn Citadel!"

"Miranda, c'mon, I'm a professional. We didn't get caught."

"Not the point!" Miranda retorts hotly, "You're letting yourself get pulled into people's petty grudges. We don't have time for this, we need to focus on the real enemy."

Shepard rubs her face and sets her jaw irritably. "You're a great XO, Miranda, maybe the best I've ever met, but please don't tell me how to run my squad."

Miranda grabs Shepard's right hand and pulls back the sleeve on her long tee, revealing the medi-gel laced bandages that are covering her burned forearm. "I'm not questioning your leadership abilities, Shepard, I'm questioning your judgement. You put your life at risk at that refinery with Zaeed the other day, and you'll do nothing to help us against the Collectors if C-Sec lock you up on a murder charge."

Shepard snatches her hand back and rolls the sleeve down, frowning at her rapidly cooling lunch. She takes a calming breath and relaxes her body language, shooting a quick glance at Miranda, who is still standing across the table.

"Have I ever told you about what happened at Torfan?" she asks hesitantly.

Miranda cocks her head, bemused by the sudden change in direction. "No, but I've read the mission reports. Despite the massive casualties on both sides, the slaver's stronghold was annihilated, and the batarians retreated back to their own system soon after. A victory, by anybody's standards."

Shepard laughs bitterly and pushes her food around in the bowl. "_Massive casualties_. The polite way of saying 'you fed your squad through a meat grinder'."

Miranda pulls out the seat opposite Shepard and sits down. "I wasn't there Shepard. No judgement."

Shepard inhales sharply, and drops her gaze. "I was 25, a nightmare of arrogance, the fastest progressing Lieutenant-Commander in Alliance history. I was already being looked at for Commander, and I was determined to make my mark. Torfan was… a good opportunity." Shepard pauses and draws her eyebrows together, looking carefully at her food, decidedly avoiding Miranda's gaze. "I didn't know my squad. I didn't _want_ to know them. They were just the cannon-fodder I used to fulfill my goal. As the final shots rang out, and I stood among the dead, I didn't even notice the broken bodies clad in navy blue, all I cared about was that nothing with four-eyes was left breathing." She looks up and carefully measures Miranda's response. Miranda gives her a small nod, and, satisfied that the operative isn't completely appalled, Shepard continues.

"I killed them all. Even the ones who surrendered. Even the ones who... begged. I ran out of thermal clips eventually, and my methods became... inhumane." Shepard swallows deeply, as if trying to drive away the taste of shame that speaking the words has put in her mouth. "Militaristically, it was deemed a win. In every other way feasible it was a total disaster. I vowed to do better. Now, when I ask somebody to shed blood beside me, I make sure that I'm as personally invested in their safety, as they are in mine. That's how you build a team." Her fierce frown softens, and her face becomes thoughtful. "I fucked up on Torfan. I fucked up again on Virmire. Never again. This time, I'm going to rain hell down on these Collector-assholes, and everybody's making it out alive. But to do that, I need everyone at their best. No unfinished business."

"An interesting perspective," Miranda says crisply, "But with all due respect, we'll have to agree to disagree on your strategy. You're wasting time and resources that are better aimed at the Collectors."

Shepard lets out an unexpected laugh as she absentmindedly thumbs her fork.

"Something funny?" Miranda asks irritably.

"Just something Ashley Williams said to me once. 'Why is it that whenever someone says, _with all due respect_, they really mean, _kiss my ass_?' Seems relevant right now."

Miranda sits back and bites her lip, trying to reign in her annoyance. "I wouldn't have put it in quite those words, but yes, I suppose Williams has the gist of it."

Shepard pushes away from the table and folds her arms over her chest. "This is going to get heated, isn't it?"

"If it has to," Miranda says, mirroring the commander's body language.

"Come with me then," Shepard says, getting to her feet in one swift movement, "We'll go for a sparring session. Break the tension. I know more than one way to break a deadlock."

* * *

Miranda digs her heels in, trying to get a good enough foothold to flex her legs properly. She uses her left hand to grab onto the back of the couch, digging her nails into the fabric so hard that they start to turn white. She uses her right hand to grab a handful of Shepard's hair, and arches her back with such force that only the back of her thighs and shoulders are still resting on the couch. Shepard pauses and laughs, sliding both hands under Miranda's backside and giving the flesh a squeeze.

"Stop bloody laughing!" Miranda groans as she feels her looming release halt slightly.

Shepard repositions herself, and with one last masterful flurry of her tongue, she sends the operative moaning and bucking wildly into an intense climax. She does a more more light strokes before Miranda becomes too sensitive for her tongue.

The soldier leaves a trail of kisses down Miranda's thigh, before sliding the black pair of satin panties delicately up her legs and back into place. "I told you there were much more fun ways to solve an argument."

"You have a compelling concept of what constitutes a sparring session," Miranda says through deep breaths, "I hope that wasn't what you had planned for your match with Garrus."

"Only you," Shepard says as she rests her chin on Miranda's stomach, "For as long as you'll have me."

"Do your plans for conflict resolution ever extend past sex?" Miranda asks with an arched eyebrow.

"Of course. Sometimes guns are drawn. I think I like this way better," Shepard says, leaning over and giving Miranda a quick kiss. "You said we could agree to disagree, so that's what we're doing."

"Shepard, you're being reckless," Miranda say coolly, propping herself up. "You're too important to the mission to keep risking yourself unnecessarily." _  
_

Shepard gets off her knees and takes a seat beside Miranda. "Uh-uh. I'm not letting you do your bullshit 'the mission' routine to get out of talking about what's really bothering you. I know you're not used to discussing your feelings, so we're going to play a game instead."

Miranda glowers in response, and Shepard laughs. "It's easy. I'm going to make a statement, and you give me one blink for false, two blinks for true. Sound like a plan?"

"It sounds like a childish waste of time," Miranda snaps.

Shepard lunges forward and puts her hand over Miranda's mouth. "We have a deal then! Statement number one. You have a crush on Jack, and all the animosity between you two is just pent up sexual tension."

A withering stare, followed by one blink.

"Ha! I knew you'd like playing! Okay, Commander Shepard is the best piece of ass in the galaxy."

An exaggerated eye roll.

"Denial. Fair enough. Next one. You're pissed at me for going out on these side missions because you're personally concerned for my welfare."

Hesitation, followed by two blinks.

"That wasn't so hard, was it? Okay, last one. It would make you feel better if I picked my favorite biotic booty for squad more often, so that she can personally look out for me."

A deep sigh, then two blinks.

"Great, I'll go and let Samara know."

A slap on the arm.

Shepard pulls Miranda in close and hugs her tight. "You know, you're pretty cute when you're willing to blink about your feelings. For the record, I know what it's like to be worried about someone. But I have a job to do, and these people have shit to deal with. You don't have to like it, I'm just asking that you try to understand."

"I do," Miranda concedes, frustrated in defeat. "This is what it takes to build a loyal team."

Shepard leans in and traps Miranda's lips in a kiss. "I knew you'd see reason," she says, pulling away and standing up. "I'll let you get back to work."

Miranda is hot on her heels as Shepard crosses the room, catching the soldier's arm before she makes it to the door. She spins the commander around and pushes her against the nearest wall. Shepard gives a quiet gasp of surprise as Miranda brings her lips down on Shepard's in a rough collision, and the commander groans softly as she feels the slip of Miranda's tongue.

Miranda breaks the kiss and slides her hands easily into Shepard's pants, and her fingers find the soldier already slippery with anticipation.

"That was easy, Shepard," Miranda teases huskily, sinking two fingers inside the soldier's depths.

"You know how much - oh God - I love listening to - uunnhh - you come," Shepard whispers, the urgency in her voice sending a primal pulse back to Miranda's previously sated core.

Miranda sets off a precise biotic shock straight into Shepard's soft spot, making the soldier's breath hitch in her throat as she bites down on her bottom lip and braces herself against the wall. Miranda drags her thumb across Shepard's sensitive bud and repeats the pulse externally, sending the commander into a fit of pleasurable curses.

Shepard's velvety walls clench and flutter around the intruding digits as Miranda glides them in and out rhythmically. After the fifth perfect biotic strike, she feels Shepard's inner muscles clamp down around her, and the commander moans responsively into Miranda's mouth.

With one last soft kiss, Miranda removes her hand, wrapping her arms around Shepard's waist and supporting her weight as the soldier's knees buckle. Shepard stands in Miranda's arms, nuzzling her neck gently.

"What did I do to deserve that?" Shepard breathes in Miranda's ear.

"Do I need a reason? You need to learn to stop being such a selfless lover," Miranda says, kissing Shepard's cheek.

"I... Uh... Okay. I can definitely try."

"Good," Miranda responds curtly, breaking away from Shepard. "Now, I should get back to work."

"Me too," Shepard says, fixing up her hair and smoothing out her pants, "Thank you for the... argument."

"Anytime," Miranda says with a wink as she slips back into her uniform.

* * *

Miranda feels the subtle grind of the ship as it docks at the space station. She gives a dissatisfied sigh, and tries Shepard's comm for the third time.

"Yeeeeeees?" Shepard finally answers.

"Omega, Shepard? Really? Why are we here?"

She can almost hear Shepard rolling her eyes over the comm. "Because me and the boys are taking my baby krogan out for a drink."

Miranda bites back her anger, trying desperately to avoid saying something unfortunate. Letting the krogan out of his tank had not been a part of the plan.

"Shepard, he's a scientifically constructed super-krogan. He's not a baby," Miranda says irritably, frowning at the commlink.

"That's right, a perfect specimen. Worried you've got some competition, Miss Lawson?"

Miranda grits her teeth. "Do you remember how we discussed unnecessary risks?"

"What risk?" Shepard says with bravado, "Grunt is awesome! It would be a risk to run a squad _without_ a krogan on it! You worry too much."

Miranda sits back and rubs her temples. Sometimes speaking to Shepard is like speaking to a brick wall. This is one of those occasions. "Promise me you'll at least behave yourself tonight, Jane."

"Always."

_Nope, my confidence is not inspired..._

* * *

"Lawson? Lawson? Are you awake?" Miranda's commlink sparks up in the middle of a deep sleep. She blinks her eyes several times, and rolls in the direction of it.

"Who is this?" she asks, her voice husky from sleep.

"It's Garrus. We've got a problem…"

She sits up immediately. Garrus Vakarian, codename: Archangel, last seen on his way to get drinks on Omega with Zaeed Massani, the krogan named Grunt, and Commander Jane Shepard. Miranda had known it was a bad idea.

"What's happened?" she asks, as she throws the covers back and gets to her feet.

"I'm not sure. We've lost Grunt somewhere, and Shepard's unconscious. She's only had three drinks, but she's out cold. We're on our way back to the Normandy right now. Can you meet us in the med-bay?"

"Yes, immediately," she says, as she throws on the first items of clothes she finds and ties her hair back.

Miranda unceremoniously rouses Karin Chakwas, and together they both gather the supplies they'll need to treat alcohol poisoning; saline drips, anti-nausea medication and the tubing needed for a gastric lavage, if required. Karin is preparing the bed as Zaeed and Garrus come charging in, the former casually sipping a beer and muttering about Shepard being a "lightweight" who can't handle her "booze", while the latter is cradling the commander in his arms, trying to hold her steady as she stiffens against him in the middle of a seizure.

"Oh Janey, you silly girl, what have you done?" Chakwas asks, her tired face lined with concern.

"Get her on the bed!" Miranda cries out as Shepard begins to foam at the mouth, "Chakwas, intubate her. We need her stomach pumped."

"It's too late Miranda," the British doctor says, a small, almost imperceptible note of panic in her voice. "This isn't alcohol, this is poison. Look at her lips. It's already in her blood."

Miranda takes note of the green tinged lips as she jams her fingers between Shepard's teeth to stop her from biting off her own tongue. "Stop the seizure!" she orders Chakwas, who is already halfway through loading the magnesium sulphite canister into her vaccine gun.

The doctor shoots the medicine into Shepard's carotid artery, dispensing it quickly into the blood stream. Shepard stills a few moments later, going limp on the bed. Chakwas feels Shepard's wrist for the cephalic vein, before sliding the first IV into it.

"Can you give us any ideas of what happened?" Miranda asks as she turns towards the turian soldier.

Garrus' mandibles twitch as his eyes rest on his incapacitated friend. "That last drink she ordered. It must have had something in it. I had a bad feeling. I've never seen Shepard go down like that before."

"What are our options?" Miranda directs back towards Chakwas.

Chakwas lines up a few more medical supplies, before sighing deeply. "We can try to flush out her system with fluid, but I don't know how much that will help. Her blood has been compromised. I could try a transfusion..."

Miranda rolls her sleeve up and uses a tight, pinpoint biotic barrier around her bicep as a tourniquet. "Fresh is better," she says distractedly as she feels around her inner elbow for the bulging median cubital vein.

"Janey is a B+," Chakwas says doubtfully.

"I'm an O-. Universal donor. You have my medical records, my blood work is flawless. Take what she needs from me."

The doctor gives a quick nod and fishes out a sterile needle and flexible plastic storage bag. "If I can replace some of her tainted blood with yours, that will help buy her some time, but I need to know what she drank so I can give her the proper antidote."

Miranda turns to Garrus, well aware that the desperation is written on her face. "Did you see who gave it to her?"

Garrus nods and a brief look of shame crosses his face. "I should've known. I should've stopped her from drinking it. It was a batarian barkeeper."

The doctor, the operative, and the vigilante all exchange loaded glances. Miranda is the first to speak. "Garrus, we'll get her stable. You and Zaeed go and find that bloody barkeeper. Bring him to the shuttle bay and put him to questioning. As long as it takes, do you understand? Don't be gentle."

"Sounds like my kinda gig!" Zaeed announces, finishing his beer and unholstering his pistol, "C'mon Garrus. Let's go and be the big goddamn heroes."

Garrus gives Miranda a quick, understanding nod, and both the men leave the room.

Miranda pulls a seat over to the side of the bed and settles down in it, flinching ever so slightly as Chakwas drives the large needle into her delicate skin.

"Perfect veins," the doctor says as the blood begins to flow into the storage bag.

Miranda takes Shepard's hand in her own, and strokes the back of it with the pad of her thumb. "It's alright Shepard," she says soothingly, "It's going to be alright."

* * *

Miranda startles from her silent vigil as Zaeed's voice cuts through the room. She gets up and takes a place by the desk, trying to understand the mercenary's mumbling.

"Er, how do you get this goddamn… ah… girly? Girly? What's-'er-name? The one in charge. Nah, not Shepard, the other one. You know, the girl with the gorgeous arse and enormous set of - Oh shit, is it on? Umm, yeah, Lawson issit? Ya there?"

Miranda presses down the commlink to reply. "Yes Zaeed, did you get something?"

"Yeah we got something. The baby krogan came back just in time to get that fucking four-eyes to sing like a bird. The bastard said it was thresher maw venom. Goddamn coward."

Miranda and Karin lock eyes, and Karin opens the large medicinal inventory cabinet. "Thank you Zaeed," Miranda calls out, as she crosses the room to help Dr Chakwas.

Chakwas pulls out a small vial full of clear liquid and loads up her shot dispenser. "This isn't thresher maw specific, but it is a universal anti-venom. This is her best chance."

Karin shoots the anti-venom into the IV drip, letting it slide down the tube and into Shepard's blood stream. She turns towards Miranda. "God willing, she should show noticeable improvement within the next few hours."

Miranda returns to her seat by Shepard's side and looks at the soldier in the bed. Shepard has been given two pints of blood and over six pints of fluid, but is still looking no better.

Dr Chakwas gives Miranda a sympathetic smile. "She will be okay, Miss Lawson. The anti-venom will work, it has to. I won't sit by and watch her go down. Not again." The doctor's face becomes briefly overcome by a past grief, before she composes herself.

"I knew she shouldn't have gone," Miranda says as she shakes her head bitterly. "Omega is a batarian infested piss-hole. It was only a matter of time before one of them made a move against her."

Dr Chakwas nods grimly. "Yes. The Hegemony has had a price out on her head since Torfan."

Miranda looks at Shepard. The green hue has started to spread to the rest of her face. _What if we were too late?_ ___Please don't die, Shepard. __I don't know what I'll do without you. _

"You and Jane have grown close, haven't you?" Dr Chakwas' voice interrupts her thoughts.

Miranda turns back to her. "Yes, we have struck up a… friendship, of sorts."

Dr Chakwas smiles, not even pretending to believe her. "That's good. Janey deserves to be in love. It might even mellow her a little bit."

Miranda cringes. _Love. Why does everybody jump straight to that? We haven't even spoken about it. In fact, Shepard specifically says 'like'. God I wish I was better at this. Chakwas is starting to stare now. Respond!_

"I have no personal stake in it, but yes, I imagine some of her... tendencies... might be curbed by a stable relationship."

"Tendencies!" Chakwas says, shaking her head in amusement. "That's a diplomatic way to put it. She's a handful, through and through. Always has been." She smiles a small, private smile to herself, and strokes Shepard's cheek. "Our little fire-starter."

"Fire-starter?" Miranda asks with a cocked head, scanning her memory banks for any mention of the term.

The doctor nods her head, staring wistfully at the commander. "Yes, her childhood nickname. It was originally a joke, after she started a small blaze in the cargo bay of one of our frigates when she was three, but the more she grew into her personality, the more appropriate it seemed." The doctor returns to her desk and settles back into her seat. "You've met her, Miranda, you know what she's like. A force of nature, warm, inviting, full of light. But pour the right fuel on her and she can burn, consume, suck the oxygen out of the room. The name seemed appropriate, so it stuck."

Miranda smiles unconsciously, not realizing the doctor's gaze has fallen back upon her. "Is there something amusing, Miss Lawson?" Karin asks, not unkindly.

Miranda drops her gaze and swallows her embarrassment. "I had my own nickname within Cerberus. The Ice Queen. Not that anybody ever had the guts to say it to my face," she says quietly.

"Fire and ice," Chakwas says thoughtfully, her eyes flicking between the two women. "Some people would take that as a bad omen. Two opposing elements that should theoretically destroy each other. But I don't see it that way. Sometimes ice needs to be melted, and sometimes a flame needs to be doused before it turns into an inferno."

"That's one way to look at it," Miranda says awkwardly, avoiding the doctor's eyes.

"Then of course, there are the times that the two elements completely engulf each other, and that's when they create steam," the doctor says with a wink.

Miranda blushes lightly, and, sensing her discomfort, Karin shifts the topic. "You should comm Garrus and Zaeed and tell them to deal with the batarian before she wakes up."

Miranda shakes her head, never taking her eyes off Shepard. "No. He's all hers."

Chakwas locks her intelligent blue eyes on Miranda. "You know what she'll do, don't you?"

Miranda gives a curt nod. "She'll do what she needs to do."

Dr Chakwas sits back in her seat, folding her hands in her lap. "She has met her match in you after all. Tread carefully, Miss Lawson. The commander is duplicitous by nature. Part beauty, part beast. Don't let yourself forget that."

"There's a beast in all of us," Miranda counters quietly, "At least she's honest about it."

"Wise words," Dr Chakwas says, crossing one leg over the other. "Just... be careful."

Miranda frowns and tucks a strand of hair behind her ear. "I'm neither going to confirm nor deny your accusations, but I will say this; Shepard would never hurt anybody she cared about."

"Hurt? No. But she would tear the stars from the sky to protect the thing she loved... or avenge it. Most people can't handle being loved like that. But I suppose you're not exactly most people, are you Miss Lawson?"

"No, I'm not," comes Miranda's simple reply.

"You needn't worry, your secret is safe with me. And for what it's worth, if I've ever met anybody who's strong enough to handle her, it's you."

"I wouldn't know anything about that, Doctor."

"Of course not," Chakwas says sarcastically as she stands and slips her lab coat off. "Well, there's nothing else I can do for her now. I'm going to go and get a bit of rest before she wakes up. Please, just hit the comm if she needs me."

"Yes Doctor," Miranda says, giving Chakwas a weak smile, "and, thank you."

Chakwas takes one last loving look at the unconscious commander. "Saving Jane Shepard from herself has been a full time job of mine. No need to thank me."

She takes a few steps towards the door, before turning back to the Cerberus operative. "One more thing, Miss Lawson. Janey is a tactile woman. If, for instance, somebody she cared about were to slip into that bed beside her, she'd be comforted beyond words. I'm just thinking out loud here."

"Goodnight Doctor," Miranda says, waiting until the doors have hissed closed before taking her advice.

She pulls back the sheet and crawls in next to Shepard, leaning her head on the soldier's chest and resting an arm over her stomach. "Wake up soon Jane," she whispers as she plants a kiss on the commander's cheek and closes her eyes.

* * *

Miranda wakes up with the bed moving beneath her. Her lids snap open and she looks up into a pair of bloodshot green eyes.

"Sorry, I didn't mean to wake you," Shepard says raspily, "I've got a dead arm."

Miranda takes a moment to register the statement, before she feels Shepard's arm straining beneath her head. She lifts herself and Shepard retrieves the numb limb, clutching it in relief.

"Have you been awake long?" Miranda asks, running a hand through Shepard's hair.

"I don't know. Maybe an hour. How long would you say, Karin?"

"Yes, about an hour," the doctor's voice comes out from the opposite side of the room, as she reorganizes her cabinet. Miranda reflexively sits up and prepares to jump out of the bed, before Shepard grips her bicep and holds her in place.

"I think she might have figured it out by now, Little M."

The doctor pokes her head out and looks at Miranda with a small wink. "Good to see you took my advice, Miss Lawson,"

Miranda relaxes back into the bed, and looks Shepard over. "How are you feeling?"

"Great," Shepard says with a smirk, "Like somebody poured battery acid into my gut."

"Close enough," Miranda confirms, stretching out her stiff neck.

"Hey, Special K?" Shepard calls out to the doctor, "I'm hanging for a coffee, white with three sugars, and at least four, no make it five, of those chocolate protein bars."

The doctor's face reappears from inside the cabinet, with a small, stern frown. "I'll get you a glass of water and a piece of plain toast, and if you ever call me that name again, you'll regret it. You're never too big to be slung over my knee, Jane Shepard!"

Shepard attempts a laugh that comes out like a short series of wheezes, as she watches the doctor gracefully leave the room.

She props herself up and looks at Miranda, her face full of tenderness. "I'm going to take better care of myself," she whispers, wincing at the pain in her throat, "I lost somebody once, somebody special. It... changes who you are. I wouldn't wish that pain upon anybody. I owe it to you - to the both of us - to live. I want to give us a chance at... something... No more bullshit, okay? Let's get the job done."

"Thank you," Miranda says as finds Shepard's hand under the covers and laces their fingers together. She looks at the soldier, who still looks pale and ill. "We found the poisoner, by the way. He's tied up in the shuttle bay. Just let me know when you're up to... visiting."

Shepard frowns softly and looks at Miranda. "You know there can be only one response to this, right?"

"No doubt," Miranda says, squeezing Shepard's hand. "I wouldn't ask you to do any different."

* * *

Shepard leans against the railing of the elevator, skin pale, shoulders hunched, face etched with pain and nausea. "I don't want you to go in there with me," she says, clicking the thermal clip into her pistol and tucking the bottle of maw venom under her arm. "This is a part of me that you shouldn't see."

"I can handle it, Shepard," Miranda says, taking the bottle of venom into her own hands and running her fingertips along Shepard's cheek. "You shouldn't do this alone."

Shepard gives her an uncertain look, but says nothing as the elevator comes to a stop. Before the door opens, Shepard straightens her back and squares her shoulders, feigning strength. The batarian's head is hung as he sits, tied to the chair in the middle of the room. He looks up as he hears the door open, and Shepard steps towards him confidently, not showing any hint of the weakened state of her body.

Miranda takes a step back, keeping her gun drawn, but allowing Shepard full control of the proceedings.

"Good evening friend, I trust you've enjoyed your stay aboard the Normandy. I hope you'll forgive me for being such a terrible host, I've been feeling a bit under the weather. Assuming you have no objections, I might skip the small talk." Shepard levels her pistol at the batarian's groin. "They say that poison is a woman's weapon, yet you appear to be a man. Should I help you out with that?"

The batarian clenches his teeth into a snarl. "Do what you want to me, Butcher, you won't hear me scream."

"_Butcher_. I get the lamest fucking nicknames..." Shepard mutters grimly. She rubs her jaw, and her face becomes decisive. "You know, it took my drell associate mere moments to find your stash of poison. If anybody knows a thing or two about murder, it's that guy. Quite a collection you had. Rare, expensive, and most of it had already been used. Which makes me curious. It wasn't all slipped into my drink, not even _I_ could've survived that much. So please, enlighten me, who else has been on the receiving end of your maw cocktails?"

"Humans are a blight on galactic purity."

Shepard crosses her arms and shakes her head in mock disappointment. "Your kind aren't known for your brains, are you? _That_ was the wrong answer." She straightens and begins pacing, her arms folded behind her back, her finger still on the trigger of her gun. "I'll be honest, if you'd just come after me, I might've given you a nice, quick, bullet to the brain. But this wasn't about me, you just got lucky when I stepped up to your counter last night. You've been killing whatever unlucky human bastard has stumbled into your bar for months, maybe years. You're a pestilence, and I'm going to put you down like the rabid varren that you are."

The batarian stares back defiantly, and spits on Shepard's foot. "You sacrifice your own people just to kill mine. You're worse than any of us."

Shepard leans in closely and lowers her voice. "Maybe I am. And I'm okay with that. Do you know why?" She taps his knee with the end of her gun. "Because I'm not the dumbass that's tied to a chair, with a pistol pointing at my pink bits. Or yellow, or brown, or whatever the fuck you batarians have got going on down there." She straightens back up and resumes her slow pacing.

"There will be a reckoning for Torfan, Butcher," he hisses.

"No. Torfan _was_ the reckoning, _batarian_." She stops pacing and adopts a casual position, hip cocked, weight held on one leg, while she brings her gun up to eye level and pretends to inspect it. Her tone becomes casual, thoughtful, as if she's speaking to herself. "I lost a friend to one of your slaving squads once. Did you know that? She wouldn't submit when they tried to shove a control chip into her cranium, and one of your people gutted her like a pig. Elise Cooper. I like to carve her name into the back of your heads whenever I'm done killing one of you creatures. I hope I remembered to bring my knife."

The batarian gives a low, bestial growl, and fights against his restraints. Shepard stands back and levels her pistol at his groin again.

"Enough talk. I'm a fair woman, so I'll give you the choice that you've never given any of your victims. The choice of how you die. Option A, you can drink the rest of this shit you gave me, or option B, I can shoot your balls off and let you bleed out. You have ten seconds to decide, or we'll entertain my preference."

The batarian spits again and bares his teeth. Shepard shrugs and cocks her gun. "Fair enough."

"No, wait. I'll drink," he says in his low, baritone voice, "I won't be left to bleed to death like you did to General Balak."

"A wise choice," Shepard says scowling down the barrel of her gun, "I've heard it's absolute agony."

She nods to Miranda, who steps forward and unties one of the poisoner's hands, slipping the bottle of venom into it.

"Empty it," Shepard orders him, gun trained at the very core of his being.

Once the poisoner has finally stopped screaming, Miranda gestures to the limp body. "What do you want to do with him?"

Shepard shrugs exhaustedly, sweat matting her hair from the effort of standing. "Let Grunt throw him out of the airlock. He'll get a kick out of that."

Miranda turns to Shepard. "Are you okay?"

Shepard is watching the still corpse, her arms folded over her chest, every muscle in her face tensed. "Yeah, I'm okay. Are you okay?"

Miranda knows the implied question is "_Are we okay_?"

"Perfect," Miranda says as she slides an arm under Shepard's shoulder.

"I understand if you don't want to, but if you'd be willing, can we have a sleepover tonight?" Shepard asks, her tone almost innocent, in stark contrast to the scene Miranda has just witnessed.

"Not tonight," Miranda says, shouldering the woman's weight and helping her to the elevator, "You're in no fit state for that."

"Not for sex," Shepard says softly, avoiding eye contact, "I just… like knowing that you're near me. Sleeping beside me. And I really want to be the little spoon for once."

Miranda gets them to the elevator and Shepard collapses in the corner, her face pale and her skin clammy. "Okay," Miranda says, hitting the button, "You can be the little spoon. Just for tonight. I expect you back on big spoon duties tomorrow."

A small smile touches Shepard's lips. "Yes ma'am."


	10. Kinship

_A/N: As usual, thank you for the lovely reviews, the favourites and the follows. _

_Sir Hattu: A special guest appearance from your brown teddy bear._

* * *

**10**

**KINSHIP**

**31 Years, 7 Months Ago**

_The woman bears down and lets an animalistic scream tear from her throat as the doctor makes one last precision pull at the child's neck. The shoulders clear the birth canal and the rest of the body slides out easily after that. The baby starts squalling immediately, a welcome sound to any physician.  
_

_"Hannah, you have a perfect baby girl!" Dr Chakwas announces to the sweating, limp brunette that has collapsed back onto the bed.  
_

_The woman shoots a quick gaze in the doctor's direction, and shakes her head. "A girl? No. I promised John a boy."  
_

_The doctor clamps the umbilical cord and begins to rub the baby down, removing the blood and placenta that coat her, as she wriggles and screams and turns a nice shade of pink. __"You know that John wouldn't have cared one bit if she was a boy or a girl. He would have loved this baby to the point of madness. Now open your arms and hold your daughter, Captain."_

_The woman decisively crosses her arms over her chest. "No Karin. I can't."_

_Chakwas bites her lip and looks over at her friend. She has been insisting on grief counselling after the Fleet Admiral's death, but Hannah Shepard has consistently refused. She is a case of postpartum depression waiting to happen, and Karin Chakwas knows it.  
_

_"I don't suppose you want to cut the cord, then?" Karin asks, giving her friend a sideways glance._

_"I suppose not," the captain answers, avoiding eye contact.  
_

_Karin picks up the surgical scissors and takes the fatty tube in her fingers, cutting down with enough force to break the resistance that the cord gives. She looks at the severed connection between mother and child and can't shake the feeling that it's more than physical.  
_

_"Okay Hannah, if you won't hold her, will you at least look at her?"  
_

_The captain gives a small hand gesture and Karin carries the baby carefully in her arms, bringing her close to her mother. The baby begins to settle, looking up with squinting, half lidded eyes. _

_"She looks… exactly like me…" the captain says, not hiding the disappointment in her voice or face.  
_

_The doctor smiles patiently. "Yes, she does. Beautiful like her mother."  
_

_Hannah lies back and sighs, letting her eyes slide off her newborn baby. "I had hoped… Oh I don't know. I don't know what I was thinking…"_

_Chakwas nods understandingly. Hannah was hoping to bring a slice of John Shepard back into the world, and realizing that she hasn't managed to do that is a bitter pill to swallow._

_"What are you going to name her?" the doctor asks gently._

_The captain purses her lips. "I don't know. It was going to be John for a boy. We hadn't chosen anything for a girl. We... ran out of time."_

_"Well, you don't have to come up with anything immediately," Karin says softly, beginning to sway the baby to sleep._

_"You choose, Karin. I don't want to do it. I can't do it," the captain says, her voice breaking with emotion._

_The doctor's kind eyes settle back on her friend. "I'm not naming your child for you, Hannah."_

_Hannah shrugs her shoulders, rallying her strength. "She can be called Jane Doe for the rest of her life then."_

_Karin looks down at the baby, who has drifted off to sleep. "Jane," she says quietly, "Jane is a nice name. Do you like that?"_

_Hannah nods stiffly. "Yes, Jane. That will do. John would have approved."_

_"Jane Hannah Shepard," the doctor sing songs to the baby._

_"No!" the captain calls out from the bed, "Karin. Jane Karin Shepard."_

_The doctor feels a lump of emotion rise in her throat. "Are you sure?"_

_"Yes," Hannah says, gingerly shifting herself in the bed. "You'll mean more to her than I ever will. Now, put her down and stitch me up. I've got a ship to run."_

* * *

**19 Years, 2 Months Ago**

_The teenager hovers in the hallway, peeking around the doorframe, staying just out of sight. She fidgets nervously, listening to the sounds of the baby suckling on her bottle.  
_

_"I know you're there, Miranda!" the matronly au pair, Mrs Docherty, calls out.  
_

_Miranda sighs, then shuffles into the doorway.  
_

_"You know you're not allowed anywhere near her, Miranda," the nanny says from the rocking chair in the corner.  
_

_"I know," Miranda murmurs, "I just… wanted to see."_

_"Well then, it's a very good thing that your father isn't here," the nanny says with a wink, before gesturing for Miranda to come over._

_Miranda hesitates, then enters the room quickly. Mrs Docherty stands, making way for Miranda to take the seat. Miranda is shaking by the time she sits down, her stomach doing flip flops._

_"She's just had a feed, so she's very sleepy," Mrs Docherty says softly, gently maneuvering the newborn in her arms in order to pass her off._

_Miranda nervously makes a cradling shape with her forearms, as the nanny lowers the baby._

_"Just support her head and her bottom, and she'll be fine," the au pair encourages._

_Miranda takes the weight of the baby, and looks down. There's a shock of short black hair on her head. Her eyelids are closed, but fluttering slightly, as if she's having a dream. Her mouth is slightly agape, and her tiny nose is the perfect shape. Her arms jerk a few times reflexively, and Miranda stills one of them by placing her thumb inside the hand. The baby's fingers grips the digit firmly, and Miranda feels herself tear up._

_"You're doing very well, Miranda, it suits you," Mrs Docherty coos. "I'm going to give you a moment together, while I go and wash this bottle. I won't be long."_

_The nanny leaves the room, and Miranda leans in close and breathes in the indescribable scent of her new baby sister. "I love you, Oriana," she whispers into the fragile little ear, "I don't know how, but I'm going to make things different for you. I promise, your life is going to be perfect."_

* * *

Miranda mulls over the terminal before she finally hits send on the message.

_Sender: Miranda Lawson  
Recipient: Liara T'Soni_

_Dr T'Soni,_

_I have a private matter to discuss. Please contact me at your earliest convenience._

_Sincerely,_

_M. Lawson_

She sits back and waits, wondering if Liara will even be willing to speak to her after their previous encounters.

The commlink beeps, signalling Liara's quick response.

"Good morning, Dr T'Soni, I'm sorry to bother you," Miranda says in her best _it's-so-nice-to-speak-to-you _voice.

"That's perfectly alright, Miss Lawson. Is there something I can help you with?" Liara responds, sounding tense.

"In a manner of speaking. I've had some intel come across my desk regarding the Shadowbroker." She cringes slightly, remembering her lack of regard for Feron's sacrifice two and a half years ago, when the drell had effectively laid down his freedom and life to ensure Shepard's corpse escaped Collector hands.

"What type of intel?" Liara asks, sounding decidedly suspicious, but interested, nonetheless.

"The type that will help you find and kill him, if that's what you desire?"

"Yes, very much so," Liara answers quickly.

"Good. We also have some intelligence that suggests that agent Feron is still alive, and being held against his will." Miranda stumbles over the name, wondering if Liara really is powerful enough to make good on her threats to '_flay people alive with her mind_.'

"Why the change of heart? You didn't care what happened to him two years ago. I believe your exact words were '_The drell knew the risks_'." Liara's tone has grown cold and angry.

Miranda needs her, but she's not about to kiss her ass. "Things… change. People change. Are you interested, or not?"

There's a short pause, then Liara's clipped reply. "Yes, yes I am. Could you forward the intel to me? I'd like time to verify it. I'm sure you understand."

"Considering your location, I think it would be more secure if you got this in person. Shepard's currently got us on a ridiculous diversion to Tuchanka, but we should be docking at Ilium in 48 hours. I'll send Shepard planet-side to deliver it to you."

"I… Thank you, Miss Lawson," Liara yields.

Miranda exhales the breath she didn't realize she was holding. She might actually be able to pull off this coup. "You're welcome, Dr T'Soni. But I would like to ask a favor of you."

"Oh?" There's another short pause. "And what would that be?"

Miranda realizes she's celebrated too soon. Now for the hardest sell of all. "I need Shepard off the ship for an extended period of time. At least 24 hours. I can't elaborate further, but in return for the intel, I require you to take Shepard with you for whatever confrontation you have planned."

There's an impossibly long pause, and Miranda can almost hear the gears in the asari's mind moving. "Miss Lawson, my dealings with you have been limited," Liara starts, her tone stern but diplomatic. "I think it's fair to say that we don't know each other. At all. Shepard seems to trust you, but that isn't enough for me. You are with Cerberus, and I believe your loyalty to your boss outweighs whatever bond you've developed with Shepard." The tone shifts again, and becomes slightly more heated, protective. "You're an intelligent woman, I'm sure you understand. I won't play a part in anything that could cause Shepard to be harmed."

Miranda clenches her teeth briefly. The asari has certainly grown up in the last two years. She folds her hands on the desk in front of her and lets out a sigh. "And I suppose it would be too much to ask that you just take this one on faith?"

"Yes, it would be too much," Liara replies.

"Very well," Miranda resigns heavily. "I will bring you up to speed on the plan. I'm sure that once I've explained it to you, you'll understand the necessity. I could probably use your help refining a few of the details. And, no doubt this goes without saying, but Shepard must have no knowledge of this."

* * *

The entire squad stands in the comm room, accepting their orders. They all stand at attention, with the exception of Jack, who is slumped against the wall with her arms crossed, and Grunt, who is pacing like a caged animal.

"Is everybody clear on the plan?" Miranda asks as she addresses the group.

There is a mixture of nodding heads and murmured "yeses", drowned out by the "Are you fucking done yet?" called out from the back of the room.

"No, Jack, I'm not done," Miranda answers in her best imitation of patience. "Shepard was a spectre, and is probably the best soldier in modern history. The only way we can take her in a surprise attack is if we work as a team. Stealth, discretion and distraction are our best weapons. Understood?"

Another murmur ripples through the room, and Miranda gives a quick nod. The door hisses open and Shepard steps in, pausing as she sees everyone already in place.

"Morning," she says, looking around the room suspiciously. "You're all… on time…"

Nobody responds, and a frown crosses her features. "What's wrong with you all? It's nine o'clock in the morning, and Jack hasn't even told me to fuck off."

"Yet!" Jack says with a scoff.

"That's better," Shepard says, still eyeing everyone off cautiously, "We've got a special mission today, people. One that I have a personal stake in. We'll be assisting my associate, Dr T'Soni, in a rescue mission. I'm not sure what we'll have waiting for us, so I'll need a tech and biotic, just to cover all bases. Tali and Miranda, suit up. Everybody else, we'll be docking at Ilium for the day. Take a bit of R and R, but keep your comms on in case I need you. Dismissed."

"Ah, just a moment," Miranda interrupts. "I can't go planet-side today, Commander. I have a lot of work to catch up on."

Shepard turns to her with a look of infinite confusion, trying to ask a silent question. "But Operative Lawson, I thought you wanted to be present for missions more often, to keep your reporting accurate?"

"Sorry, Commander, I've fallen behind in my workload. I'm still struggling to find the correct phraseology to explain that baffling diversion to Tuchanka." It's not a lie. Not completely.

Shepard gives a small, dissatisfied sniff, and turns back to the group. "Jack, you're up."

"Good," Jack says, pushing off from the wall, "I don't want anything to do with the bullshit going on in this ship."

Miranda shoots her a warning glance, which is not missed by Shepard.

"Okay, seriously, what's going on?"

Miranda glares daggers at the convict, who stares back defiantly. With one word, Jack can bring the whole thing crashing down. Miranda hates relying on other people. Especially someone so damn unreliable.

Finally, Jack turns back to Shepard. "Nothing, Shepard. It'll just be good to get away from these Cerberus assholes for a while, that's all."

"Feel like covering up your tits before we go?" Shepard asks with a smile.

"Fuck no!"

Shepard can't control the grin that springs to her face at the insubordination. "Wouldn't have you any other way, Jack. Okay, everybody, dismissed. Miss Lawson, stay behind, I have a few last minute orders for the ship."

The squad go filing out one by one, with Kasumi giving them both a quick wink as she brushes past.

Shepard turns to Miranda. "Something we need to talk about?"

Miranda shakes her head adamantly. "Of course not. I told you, I have work to do."

"This is about the rite of passage, isn't it?" Shepard asks, crossing her arms.

"No, your decision to drag us to Tuchanka so that Grunt could go through puberty was completely sound," Miranda says with rolled eyes.

"Miranda! We spoke about this. I need a loyal team. You agreed!"

"Shepard," Miranda says, locking eyes with the soldier, "Unbelievable as this may be, not everything revolves around you. I have things to do on the ship. It's nothing personal."

"That's a crock of shit and you know it. You've barely spoken to me all week."

"You're being paranoid," Miranda says exasperatedly, the weight of her secrets and lies threatening to break her, "Just... Go planet-side!"

"Fine," Shepard says, brushing past her.

It's a little over an hour later when Miranda's omni-tool vibrates and beeps with a message. She opens it.

_Sender: Jane Shepard  
Recipient: Miranda Lawson_

_Mission's already gone FUBAR. Liara's been attacked in her apartment. She's escaped, and we're en route to find her. There's some fucking suspicious asari spectre tagging along. Never trust anybody who just happens to be in the right place at the right time. I'm locked and loaded. Don't wait up._

_Shepard_

Miranda closes the message and swallows back the nauseating feeling of worry. At least this buys her time for the preparations.

* * *

Being aboard the Normandy without Shepard feels… weird. Wrong. All the preparations for Shepard's ambush are set. All they have to do is wait. Miranda cracks her neck and heads to the med-bay, her datapad in hand.

The doctor turns towards her, a tired smile on her face. "Something the matter, Miss Lawson?"

"I think I've made a huge mistake," Miranda says, handing the datapad over.

Dr Chakwas reads the message.

_Sender: Yeoman Doyle, SSV Oritaba  
Recipient: Executive Officer Lawson, Normandy SR-2_

_Executive Officer Lawson,_

_This is to confirm that the Oritaba will dock with the Normandy tomorrow at approximately __2100 hours._

_Regards,_

_Yeoman Doyle_

Chakwas looks up and bites her lip. "The noblest of intentions, no doubt, but this is not the way I would've recommended going about it. Too late now, I suppose."

"Liara insisted," Miranda says weakly, "I let her get into my head."

Chakwas nods slowly. "Liara's probably not the best person to ask about this. She does have quite a biased view."

"I can see that now," Miranda says dejectedly, "It was stupid and impulsive."

"Never mind," Chakwas says, handing the datapad back, "We'll make it work."

"We…?" Miranda asks, a note of hope in her voice.

"Yes, we," Dr Chakwas says, turning off her terminal and getting to her feet. "On one condition."

"Name it."

"You and Jane, I want to hear it from your mouth."

Miranda sighs and shifts her weight between her feet. "Yes, we're together."

The doctor crosses her arms deliberately, slowly folding one over the other. "I need more than that to do what you're asking me to do. Do you love her?"

_Yes_. "I don't know," _Yes!_ "We haven't really spoken about it," _YES!_ "And I'm quite inexperienced when it comes to... that."

Chakwas purses her lips. "Goodness, you two make a fine pair. You'll both be my age before either of you admit it. Okay, that will have to do, I suppose. You'll have my assistance with this... matter."

"Thank you, Doctor," Miranda says, heading towards the door.

"It's Karin," the doctor calls out. Miranda turns to face her, and the doctor clarifies. "If you're in a relationship with my Janey, then you'll call me Karin."

"Karin," Miranda says with a nod, "Call me Miranda."

"If we pull tomorrow night off, I had every intention of calling you whatever I darn-well pleased! But thank you all the same, Miranda."

* * *

The hours tick by, with Miranda growing increasingly anxious that she has needlessly put Shepard in harm's way. _The bloody Shadowbroker, for God's sake! _Her omni-tool beeps, and she breathes a sigh of relief when she sees who the sender is.

_Sender: Jane Shepard  
Recipient: Miranda Lawson_

_I punched a yahg in the face! Have you ever seen one of those bastards? We're on our way back now. Liara's going to come up for a few drinks. I'll come by and see you afterwards, and then I'm going to eat you for dessert._

_Regards, _

_Commander Awesome_

"EDI. Assemble the crew on level three!" Miranda calls out.

"Yes, Operative Lawson," the AI responds.

Miranda goes to the mirror and puts the finishing touches on her hair, smoothing it out to make sure it's perfect. She gets another message on her omni-tool.

_Sender: Liara T'Soni  
Recipient: Miranda Lawson_

_Your intel was good. We rescued Feron, and killed the Shadowbroker. Shepard was courageous and foolhardy, as always. I can't thank you enough, Miss Lawson._

_We are coming down now, under the guise of a tour. Shepard still doesn't trust some of the Cerberus support crew, and I was unable to disarm her without arousing suspicion. She has at least one pistol on her, maybe more. Be ready._

_Liara_

Miranda closes the message and heads out of her office._ Complicated. Of course. Shepard isn't know for making things easy._

The squad have gathered in the galley, dressed for the battle to come.

"You know why you're here, and you know what you have to do," Miranda says, looking them each in the eye. "Shepard is about to come down that elevator. She won't take the ambush lightly. Expect her to go into defensive mode. Samara, Jack, I want you to be ready with barriers in case she opens fire. Everyone else, get to your positions. Remember, stealth is the key."

They all nod with military precision before taking cover wherever they can find it. Miranda ducks behind the bench in the galley, where Shepard fell the first night that Miranda caught her cooking a midnight snack. It seems like a lifetime ago. The elevator hisses, and Miranda's entire body tenses with adrenalin. She hears the familiar footfalls of Shepard, and the lighter echoes of Liara. They stop suddenly.

"Why are the lights off? Where is everyone?" Shepard asks, suspicion tempering her tone. There is the unmistakable sound of a weapon being drawn, and Miranda knows they need to be quick and careful. She gives the signal, and the squad jumps out from their hiding places. Reflexively, Shepard tackles Liara to the ground, pushing them both back behind the dividing wall they had just come from, as the crowd cheers -

"SURPRISE!"

Shepard pokes her head out and sees the floodlit mess hall decorated in omni-balloons and metallic streamers, with all of her squad-mates dressed in their best casual clothes.

"What is this?" she asks in astonishment, her eyes lit up as they take in the surroundings.

"Your birthday party," Miranda answers, straightening out her dress.

Shepard looks at her as if it is taking all her strength to resist pushing the operative onto the bench and having her "dessert" right now. "A birthday party?," the commander asks, holstering her pistol, "You're a bit early but hell, I'll take it."

"Actually, we're a bit late," Miranda corrects, "This is the 30th that you… '_slept_' through."

"You remembered that?" Shepard asks, raising her hand as if ready to touch Miranda's face, before catching herself and retracting the hand, scratching her neck awkwardly instead.

"Of course, Commander," Miranda replies, clearing her throat.

"Thank you, Miss Lawson," Shepard says quietly, the edges of her face going softly pink.

Thane and Jacob both draw their guns as the krogan charges Shepard from across the room. Miranda raises her hand to them. "Stand down. He's a friend."

Shepard is caught across the mid-section by his powerful arms and scooped up into the air.

"Shepaaaaaaard!" the krogan bellows, "My friend!"

"Holy balls Wrex!" Shepard cries out breathlessly as he spins her around, "I think you broke some of my ribs!"

"Shepard, you skinny little pyjak! I'm taking you back to Tuchunka with me. You need to eat a few meals with our females," Wrex says, dropping Shepard down onto her feet.

"Don't you start on me, just because you went and got fat and lazy on your throne," Shepard retorts with a punch to his shoulder.

"Not like back in the old days, hey Shepard? You and me, shooting a few hundred geth, stealing the Normandy, destroying the rachni. Good times," Wrex says in his warm, deep tones.

"Sorry to interrupt," Liara says gently, taking Shepard's elbow, "But a special guest has just arrived in the shuttle bay."

Miranda frowns at Liara. "I'd like to accompany Shepard to greet that guest, thank you."

Liara shakes her head. "This isn't the guest you're thinking of. I took a slight liberty when chasing up contacts, I hope you don't mind, Miss Lawson"

Miranda physically bristles but keeps herself in check. "Very well," she says curtly, as the asari leads Shepard to the elevator.

Everyone has already broken off into small groups and begun drinking as Miranda slides the first load of food into the oven, her frown increasing in depth every moment that Shepard and Liara are gone. She's trying not to be angry with Liara, Miranda had asked for her help, after all, but inviting someone behind Miranda's back is just…

The elevator door hisses open, and Miranda looks up from the galley. Shepard steps around the corner, and Miranda's teeth instantly clench in anger. Shepard has a woman, slim and shapely, slung over her shoulder. She steps towards Miranda with a huge grin on her face, as if deliberately taunting her. All she can see of the other woman is her ass in the air, her legs resting over Shepard's chest, but she instantly wants to inflict bodily harm. Shepard enters the galley.

"Look who I found down there," she says with a wink, increasing Miranda's anger with each millisecond that she spends holding the other woman like that. "It's the second most booty-ful woman in the galaxy."

"Shepard," Miranda hisses, as the commander lowers the woman to the ground and spins her around to face Miranda. Every ounce of anger drains out of the operative as she faces the woman. "Oriana?!"

"Hi Miranda," Oriana answers shyly.

Miranda makes an awkward movement to embrace her sister, but stops herself. Oriana barely knows her, best not to make her uncomfortable.

"Shit you two!" Shepard says, wrapping an arm around each of their necks. "Awkwardest. Reunion. Ever. Hug it out, for fuck's sake!"

She forces the two women together, and Miranda feels her vision instantly blur and her throat clench tightly, as she embraces her little sister for only the second time in her life.

She focuses her eyes on Liara. "How?" she manages to choke out.

"You went to all this effort for Shepard, it seemed only right that you should have a surprise of your own," Liara answers kindly.

Miranda finally lets Oriana out of the hug, only to see that her sister is equally misty eyed. "It's good to see you, Ori," Miranda says, regaining her composure.

"You too, Randa," Oriana says with a smile and a sideways glance, "I know you said to be careful with contacting you, but when I got invited to Shepard's birthday, I couldn't resist getting to see you again."

Miranda furrows her brows and looks at Shepard, who is beaming at the scene. "How do you two know each other?" she asks, scanning her memory banks. Shepard had been out of sight when Miranda had approached Oriana on Ilium.

Shepard cocks her head and crosses her arms. "You've stopped pre-reading my messages, have you?"

"Yes… I stopped that a while ago," Miranda admits.

"Good to know," Shepard says, ignoring Miranda's question, "My cabin is free. It'll be quiet up there, go and catch up." Shepard snatches a bottle of red wine from the bench and slides it into the crook of Miranda's arm.

"But… your party..." Miranda says weakly, wanting nothing more than a few private moments with her sister, but not wanting to neglect Shepard in the process.

"Pales in significance to you spending time with your sister," Shepard says, before leaning in and lowering her voice while her eyes glaze over Miranda's figure. "Just don't take all night. When you get back, we are going to have a discussion about that dress."

Miranda feels a small blush work its way onto her cheeks as she leads Oriana to the elevator.

* * *

"Are there fish in your cabin, too?" Oriana asks, breaking her gaze away from Shepard's aquarium for a moment to look across the room at Miranda.

Miranda folds one leg over the other on the couch. "No. My cabin is nowhere near as glamorous as this."

"Why not?" Oriana asks, genuinely curious.

Miranda takes a sip of her wine. "Because Shepard is the ranking officer, and I'm her second in command. I'm just fortunate to get some space of my own. Everyone else has a single bunk in a shared dorm."

"Commander Shepard is your boss?" Oriana asks, turning back to stare at the tank.

"Technically speaking, yes. We're on different scales, but for this mission, I follow her orders. Why?"

Oriana shakes her head and gives a quick shrug. "Just the way she talks about you, it sounds like you're both equal."

The piece of music playing quietly in the background hits its crescendo, piquing Oriana's interest. "The commander likes Nielsen's Fifth Symphony?"

Miranda hesitates. "No, but I do. She downloaded it to her cabin for when I'm up here."

Oriana narrows her eyes for a brief moment, before a look of realization sweeps over her face. "Ah, I see. I didn't know that you and her... That's good, she seems very nice."

"That's an unusual description of her but yes, I suppose she is very nice." Miranda takes another long sip of her wine, and gestures to the seat beside her on the couch. "I never got an answer downstairs. How did you two meet?"

Oriana crosses the room and grins. "You think you're the only one here with any brains? It only took a small amount of digging to find out who you were working with, and a certain asari information broker on Ilium gave me Shepard's private message address when I asked. I wanted to thank her for helping me and my parents."

Miranda shakes her head incredulously. "I can't believe neither of you told me. So deceptive."

"Deceptive?" Oriana asks with a giggle. "Like, having a secret big sister watching out for you for nearly two decades?"

"Point taken," Miranda says with a chuckle. She raises her wine glass, and Oriana takes hers, mirroring the gesture, clinking them together in the middle.

"To… family," Miranda says hesitantly.

Oriana rewards her with a confirming smile. "To family."

* * *

Shepard comes up behind Miranda as she pulls the last tray of food out. "Let me help," she says, reaching for an empty platter.

Miranda swats her hand away. "I'm capable of serving up the food, Jane. Enjoy your party."

Shepard leans against the bench, resting the small of her back against it. "Good chat with your sister?"

"The best," Miranda says, smiling to herself, "I still can't believe you've been in contact with her all this time."

"Of course", Shepard says, ignoring Miranda's orders and helping to load the food onto the serving platters, "She's important to you. Therefore, she's important to me. She's a good kid."

Miranda looks across the mess to where Tali and Oriana are sitting, deeply engrossed in a conversation. "Yes, she is. She's interesting too, and intelligent. She's doing an engineering degree. We even have the same taste in music. And she's really funny. One thing we don't share."

"I think you're funny," Shepard says, leaning closer, "And beautiful. And brave. And looking sexy as hell in that dress. I can barely stand to be around you right now."

"Oh really?" Miranda asks with a smirk. "Am I… _distracting_?"

"Extremely," Shepard answers, lowering her voice, "And I've got some ideas for some of these gifts."

Miranda feels a shiver run down her spine, and she turns her face towards Shepard. "So do I. Those biotic cuffs look like the perfect way for a certain commander I know to get over her control issues."

Shepard laughs and moves in closer, leaving her breath on Miranda's neck. "_You're_ accusing _me_ of control issues? That's rich. But okay, I'll play along. You can cuff my hands behind my back, and I'll show you exactly what I can do with my mouth. I think I'm going to start by peeling that dress off you with my teeth."

"Really?" Miranda asks, her skin prickling, "That sounds difficult."

"You know me," Shepard says, running a clandestine hand up the back of Miranda's thigh, "I like a challenge."

"Interesting," Miranda says, doing a quick scan to make sure no-one is watching.

"Then I think I'll move down to your pretty little feet. I'm going to kiss them until I get a girlish giggle out of you."

"A giggle? I don't know, I'm not much of a giggler. That could take a while."

"I hope it does," Shepard says, giving Miranda's backside a pinch, "I have no intentions of being quick. And when I'm satisfied that you've giggled enough, I'm going to run my tongue up your leg, inch by inch. I'm going to be so slow and gentle, that you'll be begging for it by the time I get to your - "

"Commander Shepard," EDI's voice rings out, "The Normandy is being hailed by the SSV Oritaba. They are requesting docking permission."

Shepard steps back, a scowl working its way onto her features. "The Oritaba? That's Alliance… That's... No. Miranda, you didn't?"

"It was Liara's idea," Miranda says lamely, cringing.

Shepard drags a hand through her hair. "Shit. Okay. Do I look alright? Oh God, why do I care? Let's just get this over with," she mumbles. "Request granted, EDI," Shepard calls out, crossing the room in long strides and heading towards the elevator.

Chakwas and Miranda follow closely, slipping into the elevator behind her. The trip up to the airlock is quiet and tense, with Shepard becoming visibly agitated and nervous. She takes fast, purposeful strides through the CIC, nodding crisply at the Cerberus staff as she goes through. She waits at the airlock, unconsciously taking the at-ease military stance. Miranda and Chakwas wait behind her, sharing loaded glances, Miranda already full of regret.

The airlock hisses open, and two formidable looking women in Alliance navy blue walk in. Shepard gives a nod and shoots a salute to the older one, not seeming to notice the younger one.

"Admiral," Shepard says, her voice audibly tense, "Welcome to the Normandy SR-2."

"You've got a lot of nerve, naming a Cerberus vessel that. Your salute needs a bit of work too, Shepard," the admiral answers in a voice that is eerily familiar.

Shepard's jaw muscles clench as she takes the jibe.

"I believe you know Operations Chief Williams?" the admiral asks, gesturing to the woman to her left.

"Ash?" Shepard blurts out, looking at her for the first time.

"Shepard," Williams responds with a curt nod.

Shepard breaks into a hollow smile. "Interesting choice in crewman to bring aboard, Admiral."

"I asked to come, Shepard," Ashley says stiffly, "I wanted another chance to see you again."

There's a moment of silence. "So, are you two going to come downstairs and join the party, or is there some other reason that you're here?" Shepard asks.

The admiral scoffs. "I buried my only child two years ago, and now I find out that she's not only alive, but flying under a Cerberus flag? Call it curiosity."

Shepard changes her stance, crossing her arms and leaning back on one leg. "You went to my funeral? That's impressive stuff, Mom. I bet that took you away from your work for what? A whole afternoon? Terribly sorry about that."

The admiral ignores the slight, turning towards Chakwas. "I'm a bit disappointed to see you here, Karin. But you always did have a disproportionate amount of loyalty to my daughter. I'm glad the Alliance still has some committed soldiers,' she says, gesturing with her head towards Williams, who blanches slightly.

"Hannah, be reasonable…" Chakwas says abashedly.

"When the reapers come rolling in and the Alliance is still standing around holding its dick, we'll see what loyalty is worth, shall we?" Shepard interrupts petulantly.

The admiral raises her eyebrows. "I see you've still got a mouth on you. Whatever Cerberus has managed to bring back, they've done a convincing job."

"This is the real Commander Shepard," Miranda offers from the sideline, reflexively defending her work.

Admiral Hannah Shepard locks eyes with Miranda, and the operative feels her heart skip. This is Shepard. The dark hair has flecks of grey, her face is lightly lined and her figure is slightly more curvaceous, but the rest is all the same. Miranda stares back into the green eyes that are so familiar.

"Executive Officer Lawson, I presume?" Admiral Shepard asks, looking Miranda up and down, "Why am I not surprised that my daughter has an attractive woman serving under her?"

"Jesus, Mom," Shepard spits out bitterly, "You, of all people, should know that a woman can get to the top without sleeping her way there. Miranda is the best XO I've ever worked with. Don't diminish her accomplishments because she's beautiful. Apologize, now."

"That's answered my question," Hannah says with a small sneer.

Shepard clenches her jaw and steps past her mother, slamming her fist into the control for the airlock. "Okay, I think we're done here. You've obviously come for nothing but bullshit, and I've got a party to get back to. Show yourselves out please."

The admiral acknowledges with a nod as she turns on her heel.

Williams hesitates. "Skipper?" she calls out awkwardly, "Happy birthday."

"Don't you dare '_Skipper'_ me, Williams," Shepard retorts darkly, staring the younger woman down. "You were a sister to me. I can only hope that when the time comes, you can put this bullshit behind you and remember what our friendship meant."

Shepard storms away before the airlock closes, with Miranda and Chakwas in tow, barreling through the CIC. They stand in the stony silence of the elevator, Shepard's body language tense and guarded.

"Still a fucking bitch, I see," Shepard says loudly, breaking the ice, "She looks good, I'll give her that. Barely a wrinkle, and the body stayed tight. At least I got some good genetics out of her."

Chakwas chokes out a laugh. "Trust you to find the silver lining. She was never much of a charmer, I must admit, but that's the worst I've seen her behave in years."

Shepard shrugs. "What can I say? I bring out the soul of satan in people. And I doubt that you'll be on her Christmas card list this year either."

"I'm quite surprised by Williams," Chakwas says, shaking her head disappointedly.

"Don't be," Shepard says, turning towards the doctor. "She's Alliance. I can respect that. My Mom was using her to psych me out. Ash will come through when we need her. I have faith in her."

Miranda stands numbly beside the commander, silently cursing herself. It's one thing to hear about a strained parental relationship, it's another thing entirely to watch a display like that.

"That was brutal," Miranda says, thinking out loud. "I'm sorry, Shepard, I didn't realize she was like that."

Shepard pats her shoulder. "It's fine. You were trying to give me a shot at a family. It was thoughtful. Misguided, but thoughtful. I believe I have an asari friend to speak to about your motives."

"She thought it might be a good opportunity to rekindle the relationship. She was very convincing."

Shepard chuckles. "Liara is sweet, but she isn't exactly the authority on mothers. Don't worry about it." Shepard pulls her in and plants a kiss on her cheek. "If there's one thing I've learned, it's that being related, and being family, are two totally separate things. Admiral Shepard donated me an ovum and rented me a womb for nine months, but that's where it ended. My family is here. Dr Chakwas, my squad… you…" she trails off quietly.

Chakwas shakes her head and rolls her eyes with a small chuckle.

"What?" Shepard asks, turning towards her.

"Oh, nothing. By the way, Janey, I forgot to say how much I like your new tattoo," Karin says, smirking widely.

"M for marine, pretty much sums it up," Shepard says casually.

"Marine, hmm?" Karin says, her smirk widening to a grin. "You didn't go with an Alliance symbol, or N7? You showed your military allegiance through a lower case m?"

"Something you'd like to say?" Shepard asks, shifting her feet.

"No, not at all," Karin answers, crossing her arms, "I much prefer things this way. Watching you two together is amusing. It's like watching a couple of volus attempting a strip tease."

Shepard straightens in surprise. "Well, that settles it. I am cutting you off from the wine as soon as this elevator stops, 'Ms Pleasantly Drunk'."

"Spoilsport," Chakwas grumbles.

* * *

"Uncle Urdnot has a present for you!" Wrex announces, slapping Shepard on the shoulder and handing over a datapad.

"Uncle Urdnot? Is that a new catchphrase or something?" Shepard asks, taking the datapad and giving the krogan a smile. "It's a… picture of a varren. Thanks Wrex..."

"YOUR varren!" he announces with outstretched arms. "Urdnot Urz! I figured you could use a pet that has as much bite as you, not like those side dishes you have in your cabin."

"A pet varren? They can be trained as war-beasts, right? This actually has a lot of potential," Shepard says thoughtfully.

"You are not bringing a varren aboard the Normandy, Shepard," Miranda chides.

"Ugh," Shepard groans with a pair of eyes that roll back towards Wrex, "Will you look after him for me, _Uncle_ Wrex?"

The krogan nods and beats his chest. "He always has a place among Clan Urdnot, just like you."

She wraps her arms halfway around his huge chest. He freezes and then pats her back awkwardly. "You're getting soft, Shepard," he says gruffly.

"I already am soft," she responds, nudging the younger krogan to her left with her elbow. "One finger deep to sever the spine. Isn't that right, Grunt?"

"Yeah. Heh heh heh," Grunt responds.

Wrex throws back his head. "Bahaha! You're learning well, young one!"

"Heads up, Commander!" Jacob calls out as he launches a box across the mess hall.

Shepard catches it and turns it around so that she can see through the plastic display window. "Holy shit! A Commander Shepard action figure?! They made these?"

Jacob laughs warmly. "They sure did! You were the Alliance poster girl after you took Sovereign down. I grabbed a few of these, kept them in mint condition. Figured they'd be worth a few creds one day."

Shepard smirks as she looks at the miniature likeness. "That's awesome, and yet, so completely creepy. Thanks Jacob."

"Me next!" Kasumi says, sliding her body deliberately against Jacob and presenting Shepard with a red velvet gift bag.

"Wow, thanks Kas, you didn't need to do that," Shepard says, accepting the gift with a smile. She opens the bag and her eyes bulge, while a flush instantly makes it's way across her face.

"What's this? The great Commander Shepard blushes? Oh, this I've gotta see!" Garrus says, snatching for the bag. Shepard clutches it close, spinning out of his grasp.

"You seriously took the time to steal this while we were in Hock's vault?" Shepard asks Kasumi, the embarrassment burning at the edge of her voice.

"I thought you should get your hands on one of these at least once in your life, Shep," Kasumi answers with a shrug.

"Quit holding out, Commander, what is it?" Jacob calls out.

Shepard drops her head and closes her eyes. "Kill me now," she says in defeat as she reaches into the bag and pulls out the cylindrical piece of marble.

"Is that…?" Miranda asks as every human in the room laughs.

"The statue of David's… umm… little David? Yep," Shepard says, holding it at arm's length.

"What? I don't get it?" Tali says, looking between all the laughing faces.

"I'll explain it to you later," Shepard says, her cheeks deepening in color.

Her blush continues to darken as the gifts come rolling in. Samara, with a quick, unexpected wink, gives Shepard a pair of asari bondmate-bracelets, Mordin sends her an omni-book called 'Creative Uses for Mass Effect Fields', and Jack gives her a pair of biotic handcuffs. She is granted a short reprieve as Tali sends her the musical anniversary edition of a vid called 'Fleet and Flotilla', Chakwas gives her a bottle of Serrice Ice Brandy, Thane gives her a leather bound book of prayers, while Garrus and Zaeed present her with a M-96 Mattock assault rifle.

Suddenly, it's Liara and Miranda left. Miranda makes a small hand gesture to the asari, telling her to go first. Liara gives her a genuine smile and steps forward with Shepard's gift. "It took a little digging, but I recovered your tags," she says softly, opening up a jewellery box and presenting Shepard's Alliance ID tags.

"My tags!" Shepard says, pulling them out and holding them on her fingertips. "Man, it feels like forever ago I was just an Alliance soldier. First I get tapped for the spectres, now I'm stuck with Cerberus," she shoots a quick look in Miranda's direction. "No offense."

"If I took offense to every offensive thing you said, I'd have incited a mutiny months ago," Miranda says dryly, but locking eyes on Shepard in a way that lets her know she is joking.

Shepard laughs and briefly flips the bird, getting stung by a slap on the arm from Miranda.

"Here's mine," Miranda says, handing over a parcel. Shepard opens it and grins as she turns the model Normandy SR-1 in her hands. "Wow, the original Normandy. I was missing this one from my collection. Everywhere is always sold out of it. God I loved that ship. First place I ever thought of as home."

"I know what you mean," Miranda says quietly, dropping her gaze.

Shepard straightens up and touches her arm. "Thank you. For the gift. And all of this. This is the first birthday party I've ever had."

The touch lingers on for a moment too long, and Miranda steps back. "I believe you should get back to your guests, now. We'll talk later."

Shepard breaks the eye contact and bites her bottom lip to control the stupid smile that is taking over her face.

* * *

Shepard pins Miranda against the door of the captain's cabin. "Now, for that discussion about this dress. I think I'd better make it a demonstration," she murmurs into Miranda's neck as full lips connect with sensitive flesh and hands begin to work hemlines up shapely legs.

Miranda moans contentedly as Shepard pushes more of her weight into her. It has been the perfect night. Oriana is sleeping the night in the XO's cabin, Liara has pulled out a cot in the back of the med-bay, and Wrex has taken up residence in the shuttle bay. Gardner outdid himself with the food, the wine was potent, and not even Shepard's mother had spoiled the mood. Everyone will go their separate, hungover ways in the morning, but for this moment, life is perfect, as is the beautiful woman running her tongue along Miranda's collarbone.

"I'm going to fuck you all night," Shepard whispers, slurring slightly.

Miranda slaps the door control, sending them both stumbling into the cabin together, wrapping her arms around Shepard's neck and pulling her in close. "It's your birthday party, so if anybody's getting fucked, it's going to be you," she breathes into the commander's ear.

Shepard jerks away and stares at Miranda. "You said fuck?"

"I did," Miranda says nipping Shepard's lower lip and pulling her towards the bed by the belt loops of her pants, "It seems you've corrupted me after all."

They stagger their way through the cabin, completely intertwined, before landing on the mattress heavily.

Shepard props herself up and looks at Miranda. "This was the best night of my life," she says sincerely, "I don't even know how to say thank you. You're the best girl I've ever met. The perfect girl. I…" she trails off and Miranda's breath hitches in her throat. "I loved tonight," Shepard continues hesitantly, leaving a few light pecks on Miranda's neck. "I love being with you. I love your brain. I love your body. I love sleeping next to you. I love - "

Miranda pulls Shepard's mouth back onto hers, their lips colliding roughly, successfully silencing her. Miranda is not participating in _that_ conversation while they're both so drunk. She uses her comparative sobriety to flip Shepard onto her back.

"I'm going to give you your second gift now," she says, lifting herself off the soldier, "I want you stripped by the time I get back to the bed. Bra and panties only. Understood?"

Shepard's eyes widen. "You being bossy, is that a thing now?"

"Why?" Miranda asks, standing up and fumbling slightly with the zip of her dress, "Do you object?"

"Fuck no!" Shepard says, unbuttoning her pants quickly, but clumsily. "The exact opposite. The furtherest from opposite. The south-pole of opposite."

"You're rambling, Jane," Miranda says, crossing the room and pulling the stashed parcel out of Shepard's desk drawer. She steps out of her dress on her way back to the bed, finding Shepard stuck in her own tee-shirt.

"You are bloody hopeless," Miranda says, yanking it the rest of the way off the soldier's head, leaving her in nothing but black underwear, a matching push-up bra and a dopey smile.

"Here," Miranda says, handing over the gift with a chaste kiss to Shepard's forehead, "I… wanted to give you this. It's small, but it has significance."

Shepard accepts the parcel with a smile. "You're spoiling me. You really didn't have to get me anything. The party was more than enough."

"Just… open it," Miranda says, beginning to lose her nerve.

Shepard tears at the paper and pulls out the old, worn teddy bear. Its brown fur is matted and one of its eyes is slightly loose, the sign of a well-loved toy.

"A teddy? Thanks Miranda," Shepard says with a gentle hint of confusion in her voice.

"Let me explain," Miranda says as she takes a seat beside Shepard on the bed. "This is Humphrey. It was mine. My father gave it to me when I was a child. It was the only thing he ever gave to me with no catch, no angle, no ulterior motive. It was simply to bring me joy. I slept with it every night. I told it all my secrets. I laughed and cried in front of it. It was my best friend. It was the only thing I ever let myself grow attached to, the only thing I ever -"

Miranda cuts herself off and looks at Shepard's face. Shepard is smiling, looking equal parts happy and curious. "_You've_ kept a teddy bear all these years?"

Miranda drops her gaze. "Yes. A reminder of a more… innocent time, I suppose. It was the only thing I took with me when Oriana and I fled. A small symbol of my weakness. Silly, really."

"No it's not," Shepard says, running a hand along Miranda's cheek. "This is really thoughtful, Miranda, but I can't accept it. It sounds like it has a lot of sentimental meaning for you. You should keep it."

Miranda shakes her head and slips her hand over Shepard's. "No, I want you to have it. The reason I'm giving it to you is because… well, now I have you. You're everything that this bear ever was to me."

Shepard looks down at the teddy, and squeezes Miranda's hand back. "In that case, I'm honored to have it. I'll love it, and protect it, and show it respect. Always."

Miranda has the feeling they are no longer speaking about the bear, and she is unprepared for this. She straddles Shepard's lap before she says too much more, and the soldier melts into her touch, her skin visibly prickling as she writhes under Miranda's fingertips. Miranda undoes her bra with a practiced hand and adds it to the pile of clothes on the floor. Shepard tries to wrestle control of the proceedings back but Miranda pins her down to the bed, locking onto her hips with powerful thighs. Shepard gives a throaty moan as Miranda kisses her way down pale, smooth flesh, brushing her lips over the controversially acquired shoulder scar and over the curve of her breasts. She uses her fingertips to tickle the spot just under Shepard's ribs, and gets a loud giggle in response.

"And I thought I was the one that was meant to be giggling," Miranda teases.

"You are," Shepard protests weakly, trying again to squirm her way back on top, "You were meant to be my dessert."

"Tomorrow, you can have me for breakfast, lunch and dinner, but right now, if you don't stop wriggling, I'm going to cuff you to that bloody headboard."

She kisses her way down Shepard's stomach and looks up before she makes it to the pantyline. Shepard is looking down at her, and there's something new in her eyes. Something Miranda has never seen before. The commander opens her mouth to speak, but Miranda puts a finger over her lips.

"Shh. No more talking. Not tonight. That's a discussion for another day."


End file.
